Interpretation A JOURNAL J. OF POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY

Fall 1998 Volume 26 Number 1

3 Cameron Wybrow The Significance of the City in Genesis 1-11

21 Robert D. Sacks The Book of Job: Translation and Commentary on Chapters 39-42

65 Andrew Reece Drama, Narrative, and Socratic Eros in Plato's Charmides

77 Mark Kremer Liberty and Revolution in Burke's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol

99 Steven Berg Interpreting the Twofold Presentation of the Will to Power Doctrine in Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Review Essays

121 Frank Schalow Heidegger, the Polity, and National Socialism

137 Bruce W. Ballard Whose Pluralism? Interpretation

Editor-in-Chief Hilail Gildin, Dept. of Philosophy, Queens College Executive Editor Leonard Grey General Editors Seth G. Benardete Charles E. Butterworth * Hilail Gildin Robert Horwitz (d. 1987) Howard B. White (d. 1974) Consulting Editors Christopher Bruell Joseph Cropsey Ernest L. Fortin John Hallowell (d. 1992) Harry V. Jaffa David Lowenthal Muhsin Mahdi Harvey C. Mansfield Arnaldo Momigliano (d. 1987) Michael Oakeshott (d. 1990) Ellis Sandoz Leo Strauss (d. 1973) Kenneth W. Thompson International Editors Terence E. Marshall Heinrich Meier Editors Wayne Ambler Maurice Auerbach Fred Baumann Amy Bonnette Patrick Coby Elizabeth C de Baca Eastman - Thomas S. Engeman Edward J. Erler Maureen Feder-Marcus Pamela K. Jensen Ken Masugi Will Morrisey Susan Orr Charles T. Rubin Leslie G. Rubin Susan Meld Shell Bradford P. Wilson Michael P. Zuckert Catherine H. Zuckert Manuscript Editor Lucia B. Prochnow

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Inquiries: (Ms.) Joan Walsh, Assistant to the Editor interpretation, Queens College, Flushing, N.Y. 11367-1597, U.S.A. (718)997-5542 Fax (718) 997-5565 E Mail: [email protected] Interpretation Fall 1998 -1- Volume 26 Number 1

Cameron Wybrow The Significance of the City in Genesis 1-11 3

Robert D. Sacks The Book of Job: Translation and Commentary on Chapters 39-42 21

Andrew Reece Drama, Narrative, and Socratic Eros in Plato's Charmides 65

Mark Kremer Liberty and Revolution in Burke's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol 77

Steven Berg Interpreting the Twofold Presentation of the Will to Power Doctrine in Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra 99

Review Essays

Frank Schalow Heidegger, the Polity, and National Socialism 121

Bruce W. Ballard Whose Pluralism? 137

Copyright 1998 - interpretation

ISSN 0020-9635 Interpretation

Editor-in-Chief Hilail Gildin, Dept. of Philosophy, Queens College Executive Editor Leonard Grey General Editors Seth G. Benardete Charles E. Butterworth Hilail Gildin Robert Horwitz (d. 1987) Howard B. White (d. 1974) Consulting Editors Christopher Bruell Joseph Cropsey Ernest L. Fortin John Hallowell (d. 1992) Harry V. Jaffa David Lowenthal Muhsin Mahdi Harvey C. Mansfield Arnaldo Momigliano (d. 1987) Michael Oakeshott (d. 1990) Ellis Sandoz Leo Strauss (d. 1973) Kenneth W. Thompson International Editors Terence E. Marshall Heinrich Meier Editors Wayne Ambler Maurice Auerbach Fred Baumann Amy Bonnette Patrick Coby Elizabeth C de Baca Eastman Thomas S. Engeman Edward J. Erler Maureen Feder-Marcus Pamela K. Jensen Ken Masugi Will Morrisey Susan Orr Charles T. Rubin Leslie G. Rubin Susan Meld Shell - Bradford P. Wilson Michael P. Zuckert Catherine H. Zuckert Manuscript Editor Lucia B. Prochnow

Subscriptions Subscription rates per volume (3 issues): individuals $29 libraries and all other institutions $48 students (four-year limit) $18

Single copies available.

Postage outside U.S.: Canada $4.50 extra; elsewhere $5.40 extra by surface mail (8 weeks or longer) or $11.00 by air. Payments: in U.S. dollars and payable by a financial institution located within the U.S.A. (or the U.S. Postal Service).

The Journal Welcomes Manuscripts in Political Philosophy as Well as Those in Theology, Literature, and Jurisprudence.

contributors should follow The Chicago Manual of Style, 1 3th ed. or manuals based on it; double-space their manuscripts, including notes; place references in the text, in endnotes or follow current journal style in printing references. Words from languages not rooted in Latin should be transliterated to English. To ensure impartial judgment of their manuscripts, contributors should omit mention of their other work; put, on the title page only, their name, any affiliation desired, address with postal/zip code in full, E-Mail and telephone. Please send four clear copies, which will not be returned.

Composition by Eastern Composition, Inc., Binghamton, N.Y. 13904 U.S.A.

Inquiries: (Ms.) Joan Walsh, Assistant to the Editor interpretation, Queens College, Flushing, N.Y. 11367-1597, U.S.A. (718)997-5542 Fax (718) 997-5565

E Mail: [email protected] The Significance of the City in Genesis 1-11

Cameron Wybrow McMaster Divinity College

The city is mentioned in three episodes in Genesis 1-11: in Genesis 4, where it is said that Cain (or possibly his son Enoch) built the first city; in Genesis 10, where it is stated that Nimrod ruled over (and possibly built) cities; and in Genesis 1 1, in which the unified human race attempts to build Babel, the city and tower with its top in the heavens. Traditional exegesis of these stories, Jewish and Christian, was often sur prisingly antiurban, antitechnical, and antipolitical. Why was this? One finds in the traditional commentaries a number of overlapping themes. First, the city is associated with those who are supposed to be impious in their intentions: Cain, Nimrod, the Babel-builders. Second, the city is connected with land ownership, and thus opposed to an allegedly purer form of life, that of the nomadic herds man. Third, the city is associated with the complexity and sophistication of a number of arts, few of which are necessary for survival and many of which are superfluous and possibly morally dangerous. Finally, the city is associated with improper aspirations toward human greatness or even human divinization, with the pride or hubris which desires to compete with, or even defy, the Lord God. In this paper I wish to make three arguments. The first is that much of the traditional pious exegesis of Genesis 1-11 fails in its very reasonable task the elaboration of a moral or political theory of urban life because, in its urge to moralize about the lives and motives of the early city-builders, it makes funda mental interpretive errors. It improperly fuses the characters and accomplish ments of Cain, Nimrod, and the Babel-builders, not paying enough attention to the different contexts in which these characters appear, and it prejudges the motives of the characters in all three cases, failing to note that in each instance there are redeeming features, or at least reasonable excuses, for the actions of those characters. The second thing I wish to argue is that the failure to read the text carefully does damage to the one major point on which the traditional interpreters seem to be correct: the unacceptability of the Babel project. For, as I will argue, although the Babel-builders are not evil in intent, the effort they are making is indeed condemned from the political-theological perspective of the Biblical narrator. Finally, I wish to argue that, in light of the Babel project, Nimrod's kingdom of cities is not to be understood as a tyranny but as a per fectly reasonable attempt to establish a political ordering among men at a time when law, divine or conventional, has not yet made inroads into the human heart.

interpretation. Fall 1998, Vol. 26, No. 1 4 Interpretation

I will proceed in the following manner. First, I will present the political themes which can be gleaned from the discussion of Cain, Nimrod and the

Babel-builders in some representative premodern commentaries. Next, I will show the inadequacy of the handling of the political themes by comparing the interpreters' traditional remarks with the fine details of the Biblical text. Fi

nally, I will propose my own tentative account of the Bible's moral-political evaluation of the city.

A. THE CRITIQUE OF THE CITY IN TRADITIONAL EXEGESIS

The traditional commentaries on Genesis are legion, and I have consulted only enough to reveal some representative tendencies. Specifically, I have used Genesis Rabbah, Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, Abravanel's Commentary on the Pen tateuch, Augustine's City of God, and Calvin's Commentary on Genesis. Out of these I have constructed a kind of composite account of the antiurban, anti- technical, antipolitical tendencies of the Jewish and Christian traditions. In fus ing different commentaries I am not trying to blur the differences between them (they are all properly distinguished in the text and notes), but merely trying to establish some general tendencies of interpretation, against which I can set my

own.

1. Traditional Hostility Toward Cain and His Line

One must begin with Cain. Cain, who is traditionally credited with founding the first city, has had abuse heaped upon him by scores of Jewish and Christian

millennia.1 interpreters for at least two His motives and his spiritual character, and the spiritual character of his descendants, have all been impugned, often

with little basis in the text. This negative portrayal of Cain colors the event with which he is associated, that is, the founding of the city, and establishes among interpreters an antiurban, antipolitical atmosphere, in which those city-builders recorded later in Genesis 1-11 (especially Nimrod and the Babel-builders) will find it hard to get a fair hearing. Cain's very birth is suspect, according to some of the rabbis. Noting that Cain, unlike his Genesis 5 counterpart Seth, is not said to have been born after Adam's (hence God's) image, they conclude that he is actually the offspring of Eve and the angel of death Sammael. This is why he becomes a murderer and Abel.2 kills the son truly in God's image, With this rather unauspicious head start in life, Cain cannot be expected to produce much good. Thus, his religious performance is faulty. When he sacri fices to the Lord (Gen. 4.3-5), he offers (according to some of the rabbis) the

refuse,3 most inferior samples of his produce, the or, if the quality is acceptable, The City in Genesis 5 he gives only a paltry amount after finishing most of it off himself (Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, p. 153). Those interpreters, such as Augustine and Calvin, who are not willing to supplement the Genesis story quite so blatantly regarding the nature of Cain's offerings, supplement it equally regarding Cain's motives. Cal vin declares that there was nothing wrong with Cain's grain, but with his hy pocrisy; Cain practised a purely external religion and did not really serve God in his heart. Augustine, finding nothing wrong with Cain's sacrifice, declares that Cain's other activities (unmentioned in the Biblical text) must have been evil.4

The traditional commentators are a little lighter on Cain in one respect: they do not unanimously condemn Cain's choice of occupation as a tiller of the ground (4.2). Calvin grants that this occupation can be laudable and holy, and that it in fact can be interpreted as commanded by God in Genesis 1 and 2 (Calvin, p. 192). Augustine says nothing negative, and Rabbi Eliezer allows Cain's choice. The Genesis Rabbah, however, says bluntly of Cain's occupa tion: "Cain, Noah, and Uzziah lusted after the ground, and no good came of leper" them. One became a murderer, another a drunkard, another a (Genesis Rabbah, vol. 2, p. 29). Abravanel sheds light on the rabbinic hostility to Cain's farming career, explaining that "Cain also chose to engage in artful things and

ground," therefore became a tiller of the whereas Abel was satisfied with the

"natural" simpler, more life of a shepherd. Abel, says Abravanel, was the proto type of all the great prophets and leaders of Israel, who were themselves shep David.5 herds: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and Cain's desire to settle down into a sophisticated, technical occupation represents the perennial human ten dency to run away from the simple, nonluxurious life of sufficiency and obe dience for which God intended us. Contrasting Abravanel and the Genesis Rabbah on one hand with Rabbi Eliezer, Augustine, and Calvin on the other, we see a fundamental difference over the worth of settled agricultural life. This fundamental difference allows room for a more positive view of Cain's activ ities and intentions, to which I will return later. "wicked" About Cain's building of a city, some rabbis say that he, like other "house" people, hoped to have immortality through a (presumably, his city and his son Enoch) which would live forever (Genesis Rabbah, vol. 1, p. 255). Augustine sees the city which Cain builds as an allegory of the City of Man, that human society which seeks only earthly felicity and denies our supernatural end (City of God, XV. 1, 5, 8, 17, 21). Augustine takes great pleasure in repeat edly noting that the line which originated the earthly city began and ended with murderers, that is, with Cain and Lamech (City of God, XV.5, 8, 21). The commentators are ruthless regarding Cain's descendants, and do not hesitate to invent facts in order to condemn them. The names of Irad, Mehujael, Metusael, and Lamech are all said (without etymological argument) to mean

"rebellion" (Genesis Rabbah, vol. 1, p. 256). The details of Lamech's sexual mistreatment of his wives, absent from the Biblical text, are supplied by the 6 Interpretation rabbis (ibid.). Tubal-Cain is noted for his forging of weapons (which are not specifically mentioned as the metal implements of Genesis 4.22), thus provid ing a way for his ancestor Cain's crime to be perpetrated more efficiently (ibid.). Naamah, Tubal-Cain's sister (about whom absolutely no details are given in Genesis), sang and played in honor of idols (ibid.) (which, as far as we can tell from Genesis 4, did not yet exist). In general, Cain's generation were sinners and rebels who thought they did not need God (Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, p. 159). They went about stark naked, like beasts, and flagrantly violated the rules concerning incest (p. 160). Cain's daughters went about naked with painted eyes, tempting the angels to fall; these unions produced the wicked giants who were wiped out in the Flood (pp. 160-62).

In a more analytical vein, Abravanel argues that the violence and destruction which prevailed before the Flood were directly linked to the acquisitiveness which Cain bequeathed to his descendants (Abravanel, p. 257). Taking the op posite view, Calvin refuses to condemn the Cain line on such grounds; for him the arts are goods, and gifts from God (Calvin, pp. 217-22). Like the rabbis, however, Calvin notes the wickedness of the atmosphere in which the arts arise; he affirms the vileness of Lamech's polygamy and waxes eloquent about Lamech's cruelty and inhumanity (ibid.). Cain's line is uniformly contrasted unfavorably with Seth's line, the latter God" being the "sons of who lived more virtuously, the former being, if not completely evil, at least more carnal in their interests. In Calvin these "sons of God" are virtually self-conscious that they are the Church (Calvin, p. 238). In

men" Augustine and Calvin the Cainite women are the "daughters of who se duced Seth's line into waywardness, creating the universal degeneration which lines' justified both being wiped out by the Flood (City of God, XV.22; Calvin, pp. 237-40).

In sum, it can be said that Cain does not have a very good public image. His birth is suspect, his offering to God was shoddy and/or insincere, his taking up of farming is judged ambivalently, his founding of a city is an act of vainglory or even of defiance of God, his male descendants increased the level of vio lence in the world, either by the introduction of weapons or by their desire for superfluous wealth, his female descendants seduced the only godly people into sin. He and his line have few if any redeeming features, and because of this, the city which he founded, and all its connections (with the arts, with human law making, with political life) fall under a dark shadow. Such is the picture which traditional exegesis of Genesis 4 tends to yield.

2. Traditional Hostility Toward Nimrod

Nimrod fares only slightly better than Cain in traditional accounts. He liter "beginning" ally cannot even make a onto the Biblical stage without his actions The City in Genesis 7 being condemned. Genesis 10.8 reads: "And Cush begat Nimrod: he began to

earth." begin" be a mighty one in the Genesis Rabbah interprets the verb "to

profane" (halal), here found in the hiphil form, as the-verb "to (halal), which is the normal meaning of the piel form of the same root. From the sense "pro fane," the rabbis feel justified in deriving all wicked things, and thus they can

'rebelled' earth" liberally translate: "Nimrod when he was a mighty one in the (Genesis Rabbah, vol. 2, p. 260). In case anyone should think the rabbis are stretching the meaning too much, they supply other examples of wicked people "began" "rebelling." who things, and hence were actually They mention the "begin" degenerating people of Genesis 4, who in 4.26 are said, not to calling "rebel" upon the name of the Lord, but rather, to in their calling upon the name of the Lord, and they mention the evil men of pre-Flood days, who, instead of "beginning" "rebelled" to multiply upon the earth, to multiply upon the earth (ibid.). Obviously, in such evil company as the Cainites and the pre-Flood gi "beginning" ants and their offspring, Nimrod, whose is announced with the same verb, must be evil, too. There is other evidence that Nimrod the city-builder is evil. Nimrod, being a mighty hunter, is reminiscent of the other hunter in Genesis, Esau. Esau, of course, is bad for two reasons. First, he was the foe of his brother Jacob, the ancestor of Israel. Second, in later Jewish literature (Neusner tells us) he sym bolizes the oppressive power of Rome (Jacob Neusner, in Genesis Rabbah, vol.

"hunter," 2, p. 38). Calvin tells us that Nimrod, being a was obviously a furious man, more like a beast than a human being; he was also the originator of tyranny (Calvin, p. 317). Augustine tells us that Nimrod, like all hunters, is a deceiver, oppressor, and destroyer of earth-bom creatures (City of God, XVI.4). He further argues that the statement that Nimrod was a mighty hunter before "against" the Lord (Genesis 10.9) means that Nimrod was a mighty hunter the Lord, that is, a rebel (City of God, XVI.3). And, if it seems bad enough for Nimrod that his hunting is interpreted so negatively, some of the rabbis do not even grant he was a great hunter. They say he fooled people into thinking he could cow fierce beasts, when in fact he did it by wearing the magical coats of animal skin which God had given to Adam and Eve when he put them out of Eden. Thus, his claim to might, which is what persuaded people to let him rule them, was based on a sham (Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, p. 175). Another thing which counts against Nimrod is his being a grandson of Ham, who was consigned to slavery by Noah in Genesis 9. Since Nimrod is a slave, it is against the order of things that he should be a king (Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, p. 174). Finally, Nimrod is evil because, although it is not mentioned in Scripture, he lived until the time of Abraham, and, as master of the pagan lands out of which Abraham came, tried to kill Abraham when he was young. In this attempt, however, he was miraculously thwarted (Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, pp. 420-21; Genesis Rabbah, vol. 2, pp. 60-61). 8 Interpretation

Nimrod, in summary, is repudiated by much of the tradition because he was an impious rebel against God and tyrannical over mankind. He represents the cruel godlessness of the pagan empires, the sinfulness of the Ham line, worldly pride and glory set against righteousness. His city, therefore, could hardly have been founded with the right motives. Urban life, associated with him and his kingdom, again, as in the case of Cain, takes on a bad scent.

3. Traditional Hostility Toward the Babel-Builders

Although the Biblical text does not explicitly state that Nimrod had anything to do with the Babel project of Genesis 1 1, he was often assumed to have been its initiator, for two reasons. First, the plain on which Babel was erected was in the land of Shinar, which, according to Genesis 10, was the area of his king dom. Second, it is said in Genesis 10 that Nimrod founded a city called Babel, which is often assumed to be the city discussed in Genesis 1 1 . Thus, the two chapters are intertwined in traditional commentary, and, as one might expect, Nimrod becomes odious due to responsibility for the Babel project, and the Babel project is condemned because it was the brainchild of Nimrod. There is reason to question the connection between Nimrod and Babel, as I will point out later. In any case, the purpose of this section is to discuss the faults of the Babel-builders insofar as they can be discerned without reference to Nimrod. The tradition uniformly condemns the builders at Babel. Both their deeds and their motives are entirely wicked. The Babel-builders, like Nimrod, are "rebels," do," because in Genesis 6 God says: "and this they begin to which, do" translated into rabbinic, means, "this they are rebelling to (Genesis Rabbah, vol. 2, p. 260). Why is their act a rebellion? They are trying to build a tower with its top in the heavens; they are trying to challenge God, to displace him. They are not satisfied with being given the earth, the lower part of the world; they want the heavens, the upper part, too (Genesis Rabbah, vol. 2, pp. 49-50). "name" They are filled with the sin of pride, for they want to make a for themselves (Gen. 11.4), which probably signifies also that they made an idol (Genesis Rabbah, vol. 1, p. 261, vol. 2, p. 51). Augustine insists on their pride and impiety and their foolishness at thinking that a tower of any height could ever challenge the Lord; Calvin concurs with the others that the story is about God-defying pride, like that of the giants who tried to pile Pelion on Ossa to scale Olympus and dethrone Jove in pagan mythology (City of God, XVI.4; Calvin, p. 324). Babel-builders' There are other flaws in the motives. The rabbis object that

"settle" "Settling" in Genesis 11.2 they decide to in the land of Shinar. is moti vated by Satan (Genesis Rabbah, vol. 2, p. 50); God's people do not rest con "settled," tent in being but are on the move, like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. In settling and building a city, needless to say, the Babel-builders are reminiscent The City in Genesis 9 of the godless Cain. Abravanel argues, apparently picking up on the language brick," of mutual exhortation in 11.3-4 ("let us make "let us build a city"), that the Babel-builders wanted not only superfluity (his usual objection to urban life) but that they thought that political organization was the highest form of social life. It is their politics as much as their materialism that is at fault. God's people do not need the political life of the city, says Abravanel. Abravanel thus, in criticizing the Babel-builders, manages to slip in the moral that the way of Torah is higher than the way of the Greeks, who defined man as a political animal.

4. Summary of the Traditional Critique of the City

The city-builders of Genesis 1-11 all have unsavory associations. They are fugitives from God or rebels against God; they are murderers, sinners, or idola ters. They wish to build a settled and secure life by purely human means, without God's help or even against God's wishes. They are proud, thinking to build structures which will keep their names alive forever. They are from the wrong lines, Cain being rejected in favor first of Abel, then of Seth, Nimrod being part of the Ham line which Noah subjects to Shem and Japheth. The things which go with the city, the arts, political cooperation, and the rule of some human beings by others, are equally stained by association with the wrong sort of people. The arts come from the children of vengeful bigamist Lamech. Ruling comes from Nimrod, heir of a slave, and is associated with the violence of hunting, which, being Esau's way, is inferior to the way of the patriarchs. Politics, the art of bringing people together to build a decent civil order, is rendered suspect by the fact that the first people to be political cooper ated, not to build a better life, but to conspire against God. More generally, the desire to build cities is unnecessary, and is a desire of human beings who are walking away from God rather than with him. The city cannot provide for security against death; it cannot give one immortal life or even an immortal name; only God can do these things. The city, then, is grounded in folly. At best it is a necessary evil in a fallen world; at worst it is temptation to idolatry, rejection of God, and tyranny over others.

B. CRITICISM OF THE TRADITIONAL ACCOUNTS OF THE CITY

traditionalists' One of the first things that strikes us when we read the assault upon Cain, Nimrod, and the Babel-builders is how much they add to the text. They are quite willing to supply motives which are not stated, and even actions which are not recorded, in order to establish the appropriate moral of each story. This might not be a bad procedure, if the materials they supplied were 10 Interpretation limited to the role of providing plausible explanations for what is recorded. They go far beyond this, however. They attribute Cain's birth to the angel Sammael; they condemn Nimrod for his paganism and his attempt to murder Abraham. When material this far from the text is allowed to shape the inter

characters' pretation of motives and actions, all interpretive control is lost. The text can mean whatever the interpreters want it to mean. We simply have to rule out much of the legendary material if we think our text of Genesis 1-11 can make sense on its own.

interpreters' Another noticeable feature is the Jewish fascination with ety mology and other word play. This again might not be bad in itself, but some of "begin"-"profane" the claims made are simply too far fetched. For example, the resemblance may be significant, but the rabbis stretch it beyond the breaking "begin" point, demanding us to allow not only the rendering of the hiphil as the "profane," "profaning" piel but also the idiosyncratic equation of with "rebel ling." Again, when they assert without philological reasoning that the word "name" "idol," in the Babel story can only mean or that the names of Cain's "rebellion," descendants all mean they ask us to accept too much on faith. I believe, however, that the real problem of the traditional interpreters lies deeper. The addition of legendary material and the use of verbal tricks are not the reasons for the antiurban interpretation; they are merely the justifications. The interpreters have already decided that Cain, Nimrod, and the Babel-builders are evil, and would maintain this even if all the etymologies and legendary material were excluded, for two reasons. First, the evil of Cain and the others is axiomatic in the interpretive tradition in which they have been trained. Sec ond, and more relevant to my present interest, they would argue that there is enough in the Biblical text, even without the extraneous material, to justify their reading. They can indeed appeal to a number of textual details. They can point to the contrast between Cain the farmer and Abel the shepherd, to the parallel be tween Nimrod and Esau the hunters, to the connection between the violence of Cain and Lamech and the rise of urban life and the arts, to the fact that Nimrod

men" is reminiscent of the evil "mighty wiped out in the Flood, to the similarity

name" Babel-builders' between the pre-Flood "men of and the desire for a

name, to the connection between Nimrod, Shinar, and Babel, to the fact that Abraham left the eastern world ruled by Nimrod, to Nimrod's connection with Ham, and so on. There are plenty of loose connections and associations upon which a traditional interpretation can be founded.

Nonetheless, the traditional interpretation is inadequate. Some of the claims are errors, and other facts simply do not fit into the antiurban picture. Among the errors are the following: Augustine's claim that Nimrod was a hunter

God" "against is considered philologically unacceptable by most translators, even by Calvin, who found Nimrod unappealing. Augustine's claim that Cain's line ended with a murderer is also untrue, since Lamech fathers sons who are The City in Genesis 11

rabbis' not murderers but inventors. The claim that Nimrod shares the character of the slave Ham is untrue, since not Ham but Canaan, Ham's son, is cursed to slavery in Genesis 9. Canaan's brother Cush and Cush's son Nimrod are not included in the curse.

Then there are the facts that do not fit. The common interpretation that

Nimrod undertook the Babel project on his own, or that he ordered the people to aid him, runs against the clear sense of the text in Genesis 11, which makes

men," all the "children of that is, the entire race, equally responsible for the project. The interpretation of Abravanel, that the sin of the Babel-builders was essentially the same desire of superfluity that motivated Cain, cannot explain why God took such drastic action at Babel but not in the case of the cities of Cain, Nimrod, and Asshur in Genesis 4 and 10. Further, there is bad reasoning in the traditional constructions. The inter pretation of Augustine and the rabbis that Nimrod must have been unneces sarily violent and tyrannical, because he was a hunter and hunters kill things, is feeble. For shepherds (like Abel) kill things, too their sheep. And settled farmers (like Cain, and the later Israelites) kill their cattle. The way of the hunter is thus no more violent toward animal life than that of the shepherd or the settled farmer. In fact, the hunter is less violent, because he does not keep his prey captive for its entire life before killing it. His victims enjoy God's creation before falling to his arrows. They are not rounded up in pens and castrated, as they are by the farmer. Further, the association of the hunter with the city is peculiar. The hunter is the loner, who lives away from the city hardly the model of the political man. The landed farmer with his rural commu nity, the shepherd who sells his wool and mutton in the marketplace, these are closer in spirit to the city than is the hunter or trapper who is self-sufficient. The association between hunting and city life allegedly intended by Genesis is simply not worked out well by the traditionalists. Then there is the supplementation of the text with uncharitable motives. Calvin claims that Cain's offering is hypocritical, but he does not derive this from textual evidence; rather, he infers it in order to justify God. Augustine infers, in a parallel manner, that Cain had a wicked lifestyle. Yet all the text says is that God did not gaze unto Cain and his sacrifice; no evil motive is imputed to Cain, nor is his sacrifice said to be flawed in either intention or execution. Similarly, Cain is supposed to build his city out of vainglory, out of the desire for a name, or out of the wish to build a worldly city without God. The text would seem to suggest that his motive was fear of being killed, and that the city was to protect him; further, the text says that Cain believes he is hidden from God's face, and God does not contradict Cain on this point. How,

city," then, could we expect Cain to build anything but a "worldly if God will not help him build a heavenly one? Again, the rabbis rage against Cain for

ground," "lusting after the that is, tilling it, but say nothing against Moses who prescribes laws to govern Israel's settled agricultural life. If Israel is not wicked 12 Interpretation for wanting land of its own to till, why is Cain's motive so disreputable? Again, "rebel" the pre-Flood men are said to in multiplying upon the earth, but that is exactly what they were commanded to do in Genesis 1. Why is their attempt at obedience lashed out at as a rebellion? Finally, why is Tubal-Cain's invention of the forge interpreted as motivated by the desire to make swords rather than ploughshares? Certainly, his father was the vengeful Lamech, but one cannot simply impute such emotions to a son. After all, no one else in the Cain line is said to be violent, and Tubal-Cain's siblings all invent useful or pleasant arts, not violent ones.

One has to say, then, that the antiurban trend of thought among the tradi tional interpreters, though not completely without textual foundation, is not clearly justified by a close reading of the details of Genesis 1-11. The motives of the city-builders and their families are not so clearly evil as supposed. There is evidence that Cain is frightened, slighted, and misunderstood rather than evil. Nimrod in Genesis 10 displays no wicked motives or overtly evil actions. The Babel-builders, however wrong their project may be, say nothing at all about defying God. Further, if Nimrod cannot be connected with the Babel project of

Genesis 1 1 , a negative interpretation of Babel would not reflect upon Nimrod.

There is much work, then, to be done if we are to articulate a coherent theo- logico-political teaching about the city as presented in Genesis 1-11.

C. THE TEACHING ABOUT THE CITY IN GENESIS 1-11

The remainder of this essay will be a preliminary attempt to give the outlines of the doctrine of Genesis 1-11 on the place of the city in the political life of mankind. I wish to argue that Genesis 1-11 wants us to see the city, and, more broadly speaking, human political effort, in a much more positive light than the tradition sometimes suggests.

The line of interpretation which I follow here comes, oddly enough, from the body of traditional interpretation, but in its more unorthodox moments. For I am building upon the work of Eugene Combs, Kenneth Post, and Robert Sacks, who themselves are indebted to Midrashic sources such as the Genesis Rabbah.

In the Midrashic writings, one sees hints here and there of a different account of political life, an account which can be brought to light by a less pietistic, more politically acute way of reading Scripture. Combs, Post, and Sacks have devel oped these hints and systematized them to an extent; I wish to pursue their further.6 ideas What I will strive to establish is an interpretation of Genesis against Augustine and Calvin and which, many of the rabbis, sees the earthly city as a legitimate human response to the problem of justice and order, a response which God is willing to work with and, under certain circumstances, bless.

guy" I begin with Cain. The classification of Cain as a "bad is so well The City in Genesis 13 established that it seems impious to question it, but it must be questioned. First, God's refusal to gaze upon Cain's sacrifice is, from Cain's point of view, arbi trary. Cain cannot know why God pays no attention to it, as God does not say. He has worked hard to produce his grain, probably much harder than Abel has worked to raise his sheep. Further, he, more than Abel, tried to obey God's apparent commandments. Did not God tell Adam to subdue the earth (Gen. 1), and to till the garden (Gen. 2)? Did not God tell Adam that upon expulsion from Eden he would work the land for his food (Gen. 3)? One can see why Cain felt slighted. He is, in a way, like the more qualified applicant who loses the job to the boss's nephew, or perhaps to an affirmative action program. As a victim of apparent injustice, his rage is natural. This does not justify the murder which follows, but it at least explains Cain's emotional state, which is not nearly so perverse as Augustine and Calvin make out. Further, the rabbis themselves supply another nonmalicious account of Cain's motives. Cain saw that God preferred a sacrifice of an animal over that of vegetation. Might he not have concluded that the sacrifice of a human being would be even better (Genesis Rabbah, vol. 1, pp. 248-49)? One does not need to presume that Cain killed Abel out of anger or jealousy; one might argue that he killed Abel in a misguided attempt to please God. Even if this rabbinic speculation is discounted, it is not so clear that Cain is "sin," wicked. God warns him about it is true (4.7), but God does not explain what sin is, nor does God ever give Cain any instructions about how to live. In fact, God says nothing to anyone about how to live until after the Flood, in Genesis 9. That is, God seems to be waiting to see if man can rule himself. If Cain can rule his desire, this may be possible. If not, then perhaps the human race will not be able to live without law. The fact that Cain is not punished by God, and that no one else is given any laws before the Flood, suggests that God is waiting to see what people will live like. The violent world presumed by Lamech's speech in Genesis 4, and the utter violence of the pre-Flood genera tion described in Genesis 6, suggests that God's policy of nonpunishment and noninstruction has not proved to be the wisest. Man needs law. We can grant that Cain does a bad deed, but only one, and he seems to be sorry for it afterward. He engages in no more malicious activity and spends his remaining days in nonviolent ways, wandering, building a city, and procreating. In this respect Cain contrasts favorably with his descendant Lamech, who proudly boasts of his killings. Cain says that his sin is too great to be forgiven and expects that everyone will try to kill him; that is, he assumes, with Hobbes, that everyone is a poten tial murderer and that there is no safety in the state of nature. Further, he fears he will be hidden from God's face, and, while God promises to protect Cain from the assaults of other men, he never reassures Cain about his continuing presence. Perhaps God thinks his protective sign implies his continuing pres ence, but Cain clearly does not take it that way. God therefore allows Cain to 14 Interpretation

go out from his presence (4.16) to dwell in the land of Nod ("wandering"). Believing that he is no longer of interest to God, and not trusting in God's mark, is it any wonder that Cain builds a city to protect himself? Is the defen sive arrangement of a city not a natural course for men who believe they are in the state of nature, with no law but that of the strong to protect them? Similarly, it is hard to find blame with Cain's descendants. None of them "Enoch," does anything shameful, except for Lamech. Cain's son which means "inauguration," "Inauguration" lends his name to the first city. does not have bad overtones in Hebrew, as Isaac Friedman has shown against Jacques Ellul; in fact, it has rather good ones (Friedman, n. 1, pp. 11, 49-61). The founding of

"inauguration" the first city is an of a new way of life, one which may prove to be good. It begins as the act of a fearful murderer, but perhaps it will end in something better. And, indeed, the descendants of Enoch, who invent arts which make life more convenient, suggest that this is the case. Even Calvin, who was hostile to Cain, granted the goodness of the arts described in Genesis 4. The fact that one of the arts invented, that of forging, can yield weapons does not prove the text condemns arts in general; for the text does not even mention weapons, and the other arts which arise at the same time (tentmaking and mu sic) are clearly innocuous. My intent here is not to whitewash Cain or his line. Cain clearly did wrong, and Lamech, who seems to have understood God's forgiveness of Cain in the most perverse possible manner (i.e., God does not punish killers, therefore we have to do unto others before they do it unto us!), appears as an unsavory omen of the violence to come in Genesis 6. So there are dark spots in the Cain story. I would insist, however, that the association of the city with violence, though a genuine theme of Genesis 4, is not put in such a way as to force the conclusion that urban life, in any of its aspects, must be rejected. The city remains ambiguous as a moral and political possibility; neither God nor the narrator judges it.

flesh" This is confirmed in Genesis 6. When "all becomes corrupt upon the earth, much is said of wickedness and violence, but nothing is said of cities or evil taking place in cities. This makes sense, because the people of the Seth line, who are not associated with Cain's eastern city, are condemned along with Cain's line. The wickedness is more general, and not connected with urbanism or political life as such. In fact, it could be contended that it is precisely the absence of political structures and of laws which led to the wickedness. This would seem to be confirmed by the fact that God gave the first laws after the Flood (Genesis 9.1-7), as if to try to avert a repetition of the same wickedness. If we now turn to the cities of Genesis 10, we discover that they emerge in the context of obedience to God's intentions. That context is provided by Gene sis 9.

recall that 1 We in Genesis God ordered Adam to be fruitful, multiply, and replenish the earth. In Genesis 9 Noah takes the place of Adam, and is given The City in Genesis 15 similar instructions in language that is very strongly reminiscent of Genesis 1. It is as if we are watching a new creation; the race of Adam is being given a second chance at life. This time, however, something is added: God gives the first laws, those restraining murder and improper diet (9.1-7). The new begin ning, the new creation as it were, will have a legal dimension absent from the old, which relied too much on innate human goodness. In this new creation, we are told, the sons of Noah are obedient in the way "overspread" that the sons of Adam were never said to be: they the whole earth (9.19), that is, they occupy it as they were meant to. Genesis 10 documents this overspreading, family by family, naming the lands and peoples descending from Shem, Ham, and Japheth. Since, in this overspreading, families (mishpahoth) stay together, the earth becomes populated not merely by individuals but by "nations," peoples of common descent speaking a common tongue and occupy ing a traditional land. The familial basis of nations seems to offer the possibility of internal concord within each nation. It also helps maintain concord between nations, since they too are related. Thus, the migrating offspring of Shem, Ham, and Japheth separate without violence, amicably dividing the world among themselves. The peacefulness of the process reminds one of the separation of

Abraham and Lot (Gen. 13), and seems an improvement on the relationship between Cain and Abel. Thus, a world organized by the new political unit, the nation, seems to be an improvement on the world before the Flood, which had no such structure discernible. In this context of obedience to God's command and family solidarity, the city arises. The first cities are in Shinar, in the east; these Nimrod either builds or comes to rule. The next group arises in the east as well, either built by Nimrod in a region called Asshur, or built by Asshur, a son of Shem. Nimrod is "kingdom" said to have begun his in the first cities in Shinar. The word "king dom," occurring in Genesis for the first time, suggests a new political ordering in which one will rule over many. If this automatically suggests ruthless power and tyranny to modem ears, we must remember that such a form of rule was very common in ancient times, and that the Biblical narrator would not auto matically have assumed such a rule to be evil. The Bible acknowledges that good kings can exist, both over Israel and over other nations (cf. Abimelech in Genesis 20). One must not conclude, therefore, that Nimrod's rule was a wicked one. One might even argue that, for the laws of God (Gen. 9.1-7) to be enforced, people need to have some kind of authority set over them, whether of a tribal or monarchical nature. The Bible may be suggesting that kingship arises whenever the tribal or national structures are felt to be inadequate to enforce the Noachide laws, which are the barest minimum for a decent social life. We may now be able to fathom the reason for the Biblical statement that hunter." Nimrod was a "mighty Calvin and Augustine saw this as indicating savagery and oppression. There is another interpretation. Recall that in Genesis 9, which echoed Genesis 1 generally, a slight modification to Genesis 1 was 16 Interpretation

"dominion" made. God does not speak of over the animals any more, but of a dread" human "fear and upon the animals, which are now given up as prey for beings. Genesis 1 implicitly taught that man was to be vegetarian; Genesis 9 allows him to be carnivorous. In this context, how can one fault Nimrod? He is

"hunter," the first person in the text said to be a that is, the first person said to have taken advantage of the new bequest God has given. He may not have been "might" literally the first hunter, but his at hunting makes him the hunter par excellence, and hence the most striking example of the new, God-sanctioned order of creation.

"mighty" It is true that Nimrod, being a hunter, may remind us of the wicked "mighty" men before the Flood, but those men were characterized by neither hunting nor city building. Their sins cannot be imputed to him on the strength of an adjective alone. Thus, from the above discussion, one must conclude that hunting, as such, cannot be evil, and that Nimrod's hunting is not in itself a basis to condemn his cities. I would suggest, in fact, that the rule of a hunter over urban civilization may symbolize the improvements of the new world over the old. The new world contains harsh elements (men killing animals, men ruling men), but it is perhaps less harsh than the pre-Flood world, in which other forms of suffering must have been prevalent (starvation after crop failure, vulnerability to random killing). The new order may not be pretty, but it is less likely to make men hopeless or desperate; it has possibilities for something higher than the pre-Flood world.

Note also that the text does not attribute any motive of vanity to Nimrod. "name" Nimrod does not seek a as did the mighty men of old (6.4) or the builders of Babel (1 1.4). Nimrod does not name any cities after himself or after his son, as did Cain (4.17). Nimrod became famous, and so did his empire, but it is others who note his greatness on the earth (10.8) and before the Lord (10.9). Nimrod does not boast about himself, as did Lamech (4.23-24). In important respects, then, Nimrod and his city compare favorably with the Cain line and its city and the Babel-builders and their city. Finally, we must note that the only version of law and order hitherto obtain ing was Lamech's, which consisted in multiple vengeance driven by unre strained passion. Nimrod's rule (mamlakhah) introduces into the world something more stable and orderly. One can grant that a king may become a but one must also grant tyrant, that a king can establish the rule of law, which prescribes moderate and measured punishments, unlike Lamech's. For these I would reasons, argue, the text is teaching that the rise of Nimrod represents a political possibility which is new and, at least potentially, good. At least some of the nations which legitimately overspread the earth at God's com mand are ruled by kings; kings are one possible source of the rule of law. Kings not be God's recommended may source, at least not for his own chosen people (I Samuel 8), but the text nowhere indicates that kingship is an illegitimate attempt to maintain order and justice in human life. Nimrod, by God's permis- The City in Genesis 17 sion a mighty hunter, turns his prowess toward the ruling of peoples. His proj ect may be ambiguous, like Cain's, but it is not to be so lightly condemned as it is by the rabbis, Calvin, and Augustine. Finally, I turn to the Babel story. Regarding this story, I think, there is a certain justification for the traditional antiurban exegesis. Babel is not exactly a typical city, however. Further, even in the case of Babel there are redeeming features to the motives of the builders which the traditional exegesis does not grant. I will close my discussion by showing exactly in what respects the Babel-builders are condemned by the text, and in what respects their ambitions are legitimate. At this point I will draw heavily upon the work of Eugene Combs and Kenneth Post and attempt to confirm their analysis by comparing the Babel-builders of Genesis 11 with Nimrod and the peoples of Genesis 10.

"scattered" The people of Babel do not wish to be upon the earth (Gen. 11.4). They want to live, all together, speaking one language, in one place, in a kind of super-city with its top in the heavens. This desire runs counter to God's commandments of Genesis 1 and Genesis 9 that they should fill the earth. They want to build upward, settled on one spot; God wants them to move outward, spreading to many spots. They aim heavenward (11.4); God wants them to master the earth (1.28). It is only fitting, then, that at the end of the Babel story "scattered," they are to carry out their true purpose. "overspreading" There is a difference between the of Genesis 10 and the

"scattering" Noah," of Genesis 11. The "sons of perhaps educated by the Flood, obey God, reproducing and nonviolently occupying the earth, as if by a natural

men" process. The "sons of (11.5), that is, the descendants (literally or figu ratively) of Adam, who have not learned the lesson of the Flood, refuse to obey

"scattered," God. They therefore are that is, separated and moved over the earth in a more unnatural and violent manner. The sin of the Babel-builders, if it was a sin, seems to have nothing to do with storming heaven and defying God. Rather, it seems to be a certain un willingness to take on the adventure of human life, the adventure of populating,

Babel-builders' mastering, and enjoying the earth. The fear of being scattered, their cautiousness, their inward-looking attitude, is perhaps reminiscent of Cain's motives. He, too, was afraid of something, and he, too, built a city in the east where he could be safe.

Yet can one condemn the Babel-builders for their desire for social and geo graphic cohesion? Would we not normally call the solidarity of the human race a noble aspiration? Do we not often say that we believe that the world would be better off if there were only one great people, united in brotherly love, instead Babel- of a multitude of warring nations? What is wrong with the wish of the builders? To think this out requires some care. The language of the Babel-builders is, as Combs and Post point out, the language of mutual entreaty, the language of unity and solidarity (Combs and "rules" Post, p. 428). No one among these people (which is why I would con- 18 Interpretation tend Nimrod had nothing to do with the construction of the Babel of Genesis 11); they work together as equal partners toward a goal which is not imposed on them but chosen by themselves. This form of social organization is in con trast to the forms described in Genesis 10. In Genesis 10, the world was orga "nations," nized according to which are essentially families writ large, and "kingdoms" according to connected with powerful cities. The forms of govern

men" ment, then, were tribal and monarchical. In Genesis 11, the "sons of will

"nations," not allow the founding of that is, separate peoples, because they are

speech" of "one and wish to remain that way, and they do not need a monarch to rule over them because they have already imposed a unity of purpose on themselves. Why might the author of Genesis think such a project bad? Why should God scatter a group of people who are working together fraternally for a common end, and seem to be peaceful and nonviolent, so that they can become nations and war with each other? Why not leave the entire human race in one construc tive unity?

The Combs-Post answer, which I think is the correct one, is that it is not good for human beings to be so utterly one that there is no possibility of the arising of different ways of thinking, speaking, and living. The desire to live in a peaceful, unified world-state, however noble it may be, overlooks the risk that the single, unified world-state, validated by the consensus of everyone in it, may be or become dedicated to bad ends. If the only state, and the only people, and the only language that exists should become corrupt, and if every individ ual is so thoroughly committed to the common ends of that state that its evil cannot be perceived even by its own members, the situation will be irreparable. God, having promised never to destroy the world again with a Flood, would be unable to stop the corrupted universal state from retaining all its members in built.7 thrall for eternity. Therefore, God cannot allow it to be The Babel-builders, then, are not malicious. They do not wish to overthrow "name," God. In fact, they do not even mention him. It is true that they wish a and that this may indicate worldly pride, but that does not necessarily imply rebellion against God. Cain may have been proud of his city, but he was not rebelling against God in naming it after his son. It is more likely that the Babel- "name" builders want a for their project to christen the marvellous urban struc

ture they have created, and to give it, as it were, a permanent essence which, they dream, will hold them together in Shinar forever. "name" Further, wanting a is not necessarily an improper desire; God, in as if into account the desire of the fact, taking Babel-builders, will in the very next in the Bible promise story to make great the name of a certain nation, the nation sired by Abraham. Abraham will continue in the tradition of obedience Noah" established by the "sons of of Genesis 10, who accepted the limitations of but he will obtain the nationhood, reward sought by the Babel-builders of "name" Genesis 11. The or reputation his people earn, however, will not be for The City in Genesis 19 martial valor, or for building great towers into the heavens, but for purity, which once achieved will make Israel a blessing and a source of wisdom for all the nations of the earth (Gen. 12.3; Deut. 4.6). Genesis 1-11 would seem to teach, then, that the city is not evil. The mo tives of those who built the first cities were mixed, and not always the best, but these motives were not wicked. Cain was afraid of death; the Babelers were afraid of being scattered. If these people strayed, it was due to not knowing what God wanted, or not trusting enough in God's promises to obey his wishes. And in one case, in Genesis 10, we find that cities are built by a masterly figure, whose claim to leadership might be said to be indirectly authorized by God himself, in the bequest of animal flesh in Genesis 9. Nimrod is not the epitome of evil and rebellion; he is the first to establish explicitly a political order in the new world, the world which is being properly populated by the sons of Noah.

In societies other than Israel, which do not claim the benefit of God's direct rule and teaching, the order represented by Nimrod is essential. Although the political order is less than perfect in that it requires the exercise of force, it is only in some kind of political order that the arts, law, and human decency can "Enoch," coexist for any length of time. Like Cain's city Nimrod's cities are the "inauguration" of something new: a social order in which justice can have a foothold. The traditional pious exegesis of Genesis fails to understand that merely human political orderings, flawed and susceptible to abuse as they are, are the only possible means by which the non-Israelite children of Noah can achieve justice upon the earth.

NOTES

1. There are grammatical and general grounds for arguing that it was Enoch, Cain's son, who built the city. The arguments for this are well summarized in Isaac Friedman's thesis, "Piety and Four" Civilization: An Analysis of the City in Genesis (Hamilton, Ont.: McMaster University, 1979), pp. 44-48. One could use Friedman's results (though he does not) to argue that the evils of Cain can be separated from the city of Enoch, if one wished to put the city in a better light. But I do not require this argument, as I do not believe that Genesis wishes us to understand Cain as funda mentally evil or ungodly. The city is not stained by its association with Cain, because Cain is not so bad as some of the rabbis and Christian commentators make out. 2. Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, trans. Gerald Friedlander (New York: Hermon Press, 1970), pp. 150 51, 158. 3. Genesis Rabbah, trans. Jacob Neusner, 2 vols. (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985), vol. 1, p. 242. 4. John Calvin, Commentaries on the First Book of Moses Called Genesis, trans. Rev. John King (Edinburgh, 1847), pp. 196-98. Augustine, Concerning the City of God Against the Pagans, trans. Henry Bettenson (Harmondsworth, Eng.: Penguin, 1972), XV.7. (Title henceforth: City of God.) 5. Isaac Abravanel, Commentary on the Pentateuch (selections), trans. Robert Sacks, in Ralph Lemer and Muhsin Mahdi, eds., Medieval Political Philosophy (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1978), p. 256. 20 Interpretation

and the 6. Eugene Combs and Kenneth Post, The Foundations of Political Order in Genesis Chandogya Upanisad (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 1987); Eugene Combs, "Has YHWH 1-5," cursed the Ground? Perplexity of Interpretation in Genesis in Lyle Eslinger and Glen Taylor, eds., Ascribe to the Lord: Biblical and Other Studies in Memory of Peter C. Craigie (Sheffield, MA: JSOT Press, 1988); Robert Sacks, A Commentary on the Book of Genesis (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 1990). As I have been deeply engaged with this material for a number of years, it is no longer possible for me to tell reliably which ideas were originally mine and which theirs; hence, I am going to dispense for the most part with notes, except when I can clearly recall a specific indebtedness. But I give here a very firm acknowledgment that many of my specific sug gestions must have come from them, and that my general line of approach is completely theirs. I add that Combs and Post would probably transfer much credit for their ideas to Sacks, whose 1990 work was available to them in typescript form much earlier, and to Leo Strauss, whose "Jerusalem

Athens" and essay was seminal for them. Sacks in turn acknowledges his immense debt to Leo Strauss, who introduced him to Genesis, and undoubtedly to the rabbinic tradition of interpretation which shows up in Sacks's work. In a general way, I too have been influenced by the various writings of Strauss on the Bible and wish to acknowledge it fully, even though Strauss is not cited in this essay because he does not deal with the specific passages I am working on here. 6. Due to space limitations, I have only scratched the surface of the Combs-Post account of the Babel story. Readers who wish to think about its depths more fully should read the chapter on Genesis 1 1 (pp. 405-39) in the work cited; I know of no other philosophical and exegetical treat ment of the Babel story of comparable length and depth. I add that, in my necessary simplification of the Combs-Post discussion, I have doubtless been influenced by another very rich interpretation of the Babel story which in some respects resembles it, C. S. Lewis's novel That Hideous Strength. The Book of Job

Translation and Commentary on Chapters 39 through 42

Robert D. Sacks St. John's College, Santa Fe

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

drop?1 1 "Do you know when it is time for the mountain goat to and have

birth?2 number3 you watched the hind writhing in the dance of 2 Can you the months they fulfill? and do you know the season for them to deliver, 3 when

open4 they couch and split to give birth to their young, and thus to end their travail? 4 Their children thrive and flourish in the wild. They come out and return unto her no more.5

"Who6 ass7 free?8 5 sent the wild off to be And who has untied the reins of the untamed jenny, 6 whose home I have made the wilderness, and who dwells off in the salt lands? 7 He laughs at the bustling of the city, and does not even

shout,9 hear the drivers 8 but roams the hills as his pasture, and every green thing is his to search out.10 9 "Would the wild ox agree to serve you? Would he spend the night at your crib? 10 Can you hitch him up with a rope and hold him to the furrow? Will he plow up the valleys behind you? 11 Would you rely upon him? Remember, his strength is great. Could you leave him your toils? 12 Would you trust him to

barn?" bring in the grain and gather it into the 13 "An ostrich whimsically flaps her wings as if she had the pinions and

stork,12 plumage of a 14 but leaves her eggs on the ground for the dust to keep them warm. 15 She has forgotten that a foot can crush them, or that a wild beast might trample them down. 16 She treats her children roughly, as if they were not even hers. Her toils were all in vain. You see, she has no fear 17 because God has caused her to forget all wisdom, and she has no share in understanding. 18 She just flaps her wings as if on high, and laughs at a passing horse'3 rider.14 and its

19 "Did you give to the horse its strength, or clothe its neck with a mane? 20 Can you make him leap like a locust when the glory of his snort breeds terror? 21 He digs up the valleys, and exults in his strength as he goes out to meet armed combat. 22 He laughs at fear and is not dismayed, nor is he turned

The first thirty-eight chapters of the translation and commentary appeared in Volume 24, Num bers 2 and 3, and in Volume 25 of Interpretation.

interpretation, Fall 1998, Vol. 26, No. 1 22 Interpretation back by edge of sword. 23 A quiverful of arrows whizzes by the flashing spear and the javelin. 24 With excitement and agitation, he gouges into the earth. He pays no homage to trumpet's blast, 25 but facing the trumpet he cries 'Huzzah' ! He smells the battle from afar. Oh, the roars of the captains and the

shoutings!"

hawk16 26 "Is it by your wisdom that the soars and spreads its wings out to the south? 27 Does the eagle mount at your command, building its nest on

rock.17 high? 28 He dwells upon the He takes up his lodging on the highest pinnacle, making it his stronghold. 29 From there he searches out his prey. His eye spots it from afar, 30 and his fledglings swill down the blood. Whenever death defiles, he is there."18

Comments

1. Job has entered far into what we have come to call the Land of the Jackal.

There he will meet six sets of wild beasts:

The rock-goat and hind The wild ass and untamed jenny The wild ox

The ostrich The horse

The hawk and eagle

None of them is mythical, and each of them is either a close relative to a tame species or is itself a member of species of animals some of whom have been made tame, although in Hebrew they have totally different names. It is almost as if we were to leam what each would be when viewed from the other side. They remind us of that thin but absolute veil between the world of man and the world beyond man.

See notes to 39:18 and 26.

"writhe," 2. The single Hebrew word hul, which I have generally translated and have here translated birth" by the phrase "writhing in the dance of is a very complex word. Indeed, much of our understanding of the Book of Job will center on our attempt to regain the sense of unity that lies within the complexity of this word.

whirl." As far as one can tell, it originally meant "to

down" Hos. 1 1 :6 The sword shall "whirl against their cities, consume the bars of their gates, and devour them in their fortresses.

2Sam. 3:28 when David of Afterward, heard it, he said, "I and my kingdom are forever guiltless before the LORD for the blood of Abner the son of Ner. it whirl May down upon the head of Joab, and upon all his father's house." The Book of Job 23

dance." It can also mean "to Sometimes it is used in a perfectly wonderful context which can be full of joy and exultation:

Psa. 149:3 Let them praise his name with dancing, making melody to him with timbrel and lyre!

But more often than not things get out of hand, and often when first reading the word, the reader can feel a foreboding thought thickening the air.

Exod. 15:20 Then Miriam, the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and dancing.

Exod. 32:19 And as soon as he came near the camp and saw the calf and the Moses' dancing, anger burned hot, and he threw the tables out of his hands and broke them at the foot of the mountain.

The Book of Judges, that book which begins with such high hopes for self- rule, only to see them dashed, ends in fright and the clear need of the one thing the book had hoped to avoid, a king.

Judg. 21:20 And they commanded the Benjaminites, saying, "Go and lie in wait in the vineyards, and watch; if the daughters of Shiloh come out to dance win the dances, then come out of the vineyards and seize each man his wife from the daughters of Shiloh, and go to the land of Benjamin. And when their fathers or their brothers come to complain

to us, we will say to them, Grant them graciously to us; because we did not take for each man of them his wife in battle, neither did you give them to them, else you would now be guilty. And the Benjaminites did so, and took their wives, according to their number, from the dancers whom they carried off; then they went and returned to their inheritance, and rebuilt the towns, and dwelt in them.

tremble," Then, too, it comes to mean "to or "to quake":

Psa. 29:8 The voice of the LORD shakes the wilderness, the LORD shakes

the wilderness of Kadesh. Deut. 2:25 This day I will begin to put the dread and fear of you upon the peoples that are under the whole heaven, who shall hear the report of

you and shall tremble and be in anguish because of you.

"anguish" It often means and "pain":

Isa. 23:5 When the report comes to Egypt, they will be in anguish over the report about Tyre.

Jer. 51:29 The land trembles and writhes in pain, for the Lord's purposes 24 Interpretation

against Babylon stand, to make the land of Babylon a desolation, without inhabitant.

or even a mortal injury:

ISam. 31:3. The battle pressed hard upon Saul, and the archers found him; and he was badly wounded by the archers.

labor," But, as in our case, it can also mean "to be in and hence "to give birth":

Deu. 32:18 You were unmindful of the Rock that begot you, and you forgot

the God who gave you birth. Ps. 37:6 He will bring forth your vindication as the light, and your right as the noonday.

Ps. 51:5 Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother

conceive me.

Prov. 25:23 The north wind brings forth rain; and a backbiting tongue, angry looks. Isa. 13:8 and they will be dismayed. Pangs and agony will seize them; they will be in anguish like a woman in travail. They will look aghast at one another; their faces will be aflame.

"pain" "anguish" For this reason, the same word that meant and can also mean "to prosper":

Psa. 10:5 His ways prosper at all times; thy judgments are on high, out of his sight; as for all his foes, he puffs at them.

We can now begin to understand the great admonition: "Gird your loins like

(gebher)." a man There is wildness and pain present when the signet is put to the clay to make a thing of value and worth. Here there is no indication that the pain of birth was caused by a curse or the result of having taken a bite of the apple. Job, in visiting the day of birth, was revisiting the day of his own birth. To venture beyond the realm of man and to see each thing as having its own signet means to come to terms with the unity of all these opposing feelings. There is one more aspect of things we must look at:

Jer. 23:19 the storm of the LORD! Behold, Wrath has gone forth, a whirling tempest; it will burst upon the head of the wicked.

tempest." Note the phrase "a whirling If the words and ideas were intended by the author to come together as naturally as they do for the English-speaking "whirlwind," reader who knows the word we may also recognize in this pas- The Book of Job 25 sage some foundation for the shift we had already begun to feel in the role of the feminine. It is the whirling, dancing, pain-ridden, birthing tempest that speaks to Job. She, for the Hebrew word for tempest is a feminine noun, lets Job see that pain and joy and birth are so interrelated that they cannot be distinguished in speech.

3. How different things are here from the Book of Isaiah:

Isa. 66:7 Before she was in labor she gave birth; before her pain came upon

her she was delivered of a son.

If God is a nurturing god rather than a constructing god, fostering in each being life according to its own signet, number and season as well as pleasure and pain are an integral part of the way in which things come to be what they are, and are what they are. This, then, is the question to Job: Can he discern number and order in this untrodden land? 4. In using such a harsh word, the Voice is beginning to open Job to a different kind of order. From the point of view of human justice there is no a priori reason why birth should entail so much pain, and in terms of human justice it seems all wrong. Here, perhaps for the first time, we can begin to see a world beyond our world, an order with its own necessities which seems to be totally indifferent to our sense of order. Yet we can all see that without such a world, the joys of our world could never come to be. 5. The Voice here reminds Job that in its own way, the separation of birth is as hard and as final as the separation of death, and that our understanding of the one may lead us in coming to terms with the other. 6. The question is, of course, rhetorical, since, unlike the donkey and the burro, the wild ass has never known either burden or rein. 7. The wild ass had been mentioned several times in the text before. Job already had some care for it:

Job 6:5 Will the wild ass bray when there is grass?

Eliphaz had none:

Job 11:12 Hollow man will become thoughtful when the wild ass gives birth to

a man ('adam).

But even Job, while he showed a certain amount of compassion, did not quite have the respect that these lines demand:

Job 24:5 They are wild asses in the desert, going off about their labors of snatching up at dawn.

8. To understand this passage, it would be best to begin by seeing how the word is used in other Biblical contexts: 26 Interpretation

and in Exod. 21:2 When you buy a Hebrew slave, he shall serve six years, the seventh he shall go out free, for nothing. But if the slave I will not plainly says, "I love my master, my wife, and my children; male or go out free. . . When a man strikes the eye of his slave, female, and destroys it, he shall let the slave go free for the eye's

sake.

Deut. 15:12 If your brother, a Hebrew man, or a Hebrew woman, is sold to you, he shall serve you six years, and in the seventh year you shall

let him go free from you.

ISam. 17:25 And the men of Israel said, "Have you seen this man who has come up? Surely he has come up to defy Israel; and the man who kills him, the king will enrich with great riches, and will give him Israel." his daughter, and make his father's house free in Isa. 58:6 "Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of

wickedness, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go

yoke?" free, and to break every Jer. 34:9 that every one should set free his Hebrew slaves, male and

female, so that no one should enslave a Jew, his brother. . At the end of six years each of you must set free the fellow Hebrew who

has been sold to you and has served you six years; you must set him

free from your service. But your fathers did not listen to me or incline their ears to me. but then you turned around and profaned my name when each of you took back his male and female slaves, whom you had set free according to their desire, and you brought them into subjection to be your slaves.

9. Job himself had once said nearly the same thing:

Job 3:18-19 There prisoners are wholly at ease for they do not even hear the driver's voice. Small and great, all are there, and the slave is free of his lord.

And there are other passages, too, that show his concern.

Job 7:2 Like a slave he yearns for the shadows, and like a hireling he waits for his wages.

"slave" It is true that, since the language does not distinguish between and "servant," Job, along with many others, did have a slave or servant:

Job 19:16 I called to but he gave my servant, no answer, and now must I curry to him for favor.

were servants or that They slaves, was true, but they were treated justly and with kindness: The Book of Job 27

Job 31:13-14 If ever I felt contempt for the cause of one of my servants, man or maid when they brought complaint against me, what would I do when God rose up?

10. Even from within the human sphere, men could always see that slavery was unpleasant, both for oneself and for others. There were always some men who were deeply moved by the pain and suffering it caused, and many of them devoted their lives to alleviating that suffering. But the discovery of the notion that slavery is wrong as such, regardless of whether there is pain and suffering involved or not, requires a certain admiration for the wild ass. To put it other wise, it requires something like the concept of a signet. It is through seeing the wild ass as having a life of its own, roaming the hills as his pasture, that its freedom becomes important to us. That is not to say that such ideas cannot find their way back into the human world but, as we shall see, it will be a long journey. 11. The answer is No. Job can do none of these things, and yet he did have an ox, five hundred of them, and he did "hitch them up and hold them to the furrow." grain" But to "trust them to bring in the would, of course have been out of the question. Human art is only the vaguest image of the world farm. This is the only verse, with the exception of 39:24, in which God speaks of "trust." It is in noticeable contrast to what Eliphaz had said:

Job 4:18-19 If He put no trust in His servants and to His angels lays charge of folly, what of those who dwell in a house of clay, whose foundation is but dust?

or

Job 15:15 He puts no trust in His Holy Ones and even the heavens are not clean in His sight.

Because each thing is what it is beyond the sphere of man, each thing can be trusted to be what it is. Job sees a world in which all things are trusted rather than watched. The world farm, chaotic as it may seem, has kept itself in bal ance in unrecorded time, giving it a legitimate claim to be much older than

generations." Bildad's "first The signets, or nature, the way each thing is when left to itself, is prior to either the arts or to tradition. 12. It is not certain what bird is meant, but here is what is known:

Lev. 11:13 And these you shall have in abomination among the birds, they shall not be eaten, they are an abomination: the eagle, the vulture, the

osprey, ... the stork, the heron according to its kind, the hoopoe, and the bat.

Ps. 104:16 The trees of the LORD are watered abundantly, the cedars of 28 Interpretation

Lebanon which he planted. In them the birds build their nests; the stork has her home in the fir trees. Jer. 8:7 Even the stork in the heavens knows her times; and the turtledove, swallow, and crane keep the time of their coming; but my people know not the ordinance of the LORD.

Zech. 5:9 Then I lifted my eyes and saw, and behold, two women coming forward! The wind was in their wings; they had wings like the wings of a stork, and they lifted up the ephah between earth and heaven.

It is probable that the author intended a double irony, since the name of this

"piety" care." bird means something like or "loving 13. Part of the irony of this passage is that ostriches, insofar as they have been domesticated, have been ridden by some tribesmen of the area as if they were horses.

14. For Job this must have been the most difficult of the beasts to meet thus far; at least it is the most fearful to write about. Who can help being totally charmed by the foolish antics of this silly, silly beast. Yet at the same time we are horrified and know that if she were a fellow- citizen our judgment would have to be quite otherwise and we would have to arraign her for child abuse. Our worlds are beginning to pull apart and to clash as they have for Job since we first met him. 15. The first thing to be said of these verses is that the Hebrew text is as moving as any words ever spoken on the field at Agincourt. The first questions to be asked, then, are why the human soul should find itself so moved by the savage, subhuman might of a beast that could mean to it nothing other than its own destruction and why the author should wish to arouse in Job an admiration for such a beast. Does this not mean raising the very passions in Job that Elihu, if only in part, foresaw when he warned Job not to leave his warm den of hibernation?

It would seem that there are not one, but two obscure and sometimes inter weaving pathways which lure men like Job toward the chinks in the Great Wall of the Human City and that reveal its problematic character. Both the highest and the lowest in man have a certain kinship with the lands that lie beyond that wall. If Job is to return safely to the home of man, he must learn to feel and to recognize all sides of the human character that each may find its proper place. 16. The had been hawk, too, domesticated. There is an early bas relief from Khorsabad a showing falconer bearing a hawk on his wrist. 17. The is not imagery uncommon in the Bible, but the significance has greatly changed:

Isa. 33:15 He who walks righteously and speaks uprightly, who despises the gain of oppression, who shakes his hands, lest they hold a bribe, who stops his ears from hearing of bloodshed and shuts his eyes from upon he will looking evil, dwell on the heights; his place of defense The Book ofJob 29

will be the fortresses of rocks; his bread will be given him, his water will be sure.

Jer. 48:28 Leave the cities, and dwell in the rock, O inhabitants of Moab! Be

like the dove that nests in the sides of the mouth of a gorge.

Jer. 49:16 The horror you inspire has deceived you, and the pride of your heart, you who dwell in the clefts of the rock, who hold the height of the hill. Though you make your nest as high as the eagle's, I will bring you down from there, says the LORD. Obad. 1:3 The pride of your heart has deceived you, you who live in the clefts of the rock, whose dwelling is high, who say in your heart, "Who will

ground?" bring me down to the Though you soar aloft like the eagle, though your nest is set among the stars, thence I will bring you down, says the LORD.

18. The sixth beast, the hawk, is not so charming as his sister bird the ostrich. Job, as we shall see in the next chapter, has been defeated. Elihu's implicit claim that no man is enough of a man (gebher) to face the world of nature seems to be vindicated. The sight of the blood and the gore have numbed him. The cold and longterm planning that led up to the carnage made it the more grotesque. We do not, however, know whether Job was so horrified be cause he did not see, or precisely because he did see that the hawk, in returning to life a life about to flow off into death, did for its children all that the charm of the ostrich was unable to do.

CHAPTER FORTY

1 And the LORD answered Job and said: 2 "Should a man of discipline wrangle with the Almighty? One who would convict God must give an an

swer."

3 Then Job answered the LORD and said: 4 "I have become so weak. How can I answer You? I lay my hand upon my mouth. 5 I have spoken once, but I

continue."1 have no answer; twice, but I cannot 6 And the LORD answered Job out of the Tempest and said: 7 "Gird up your loins like a man (gebher)2: I will question you, and you must let me know. 8 Would you shatter my judgment? Would you condemn me in order that you might be right? 9 Have you an arm like God's, and can you thunder in a voice

His?3 such as

10 "Go ahead, deck yourself out in majesty and dignity. Put on glory and splendor. 11 Let fly the outbursts of your anger. Look upon every man of majestic pride and abase him. 12 Look upon everyone of majestic pride and bring him low and tread down the guilty. 13 Bury them all in the dust. Bind their faces in obscurity. 14 Then even I would praise you, for your own right

you.4 hand would have saved 30 * Interpretation

Behemoth5 you. He eats 15 "But look now, here is whom I made along with fodder just like the cattle, 16 but just look at the strength in his loins. His might is in the muscles of his belly. 17 He can stretch out his tail stiff as a cedar. The sinews of his thighs are all knit together. 18 His bones are ducts of brass, and

iron.6 ways.7 his limbs are like rods of 19 He is the first of God's Only his

Maker can approach him with a sword.

20 "The mountains yield him produce, and all the beasts of the field come

play.8 there to 21 He lies down under the lotuses, hiding in the reeds and the fen. 22 The lotuses blanket him with their shade and the willows of the brook

rage,9 surround him. 23 Though the river he is unalarmed, confident that the Jordan will burst into his mouth. 24 Can he be taken by the eyes? or pierced in

snare?10 the nose with a

"Can" Leviathan12 25 you haul in the with a fishhook? Can you press down his tongue with the line? 26 Can you put a ring through his nose, or pierce his jaw with a barb? 27 Will he always be coming to implore you, or speak to you

servant?13 softly? 28 Will he make a covenant with you to be your eternal 29 "Can you play with him like a bird or tie him on a string for your young ladies?14 30 Or can the dealers get hold of him and trade their shares in the market? 31 Can you fill his hide with harpoons, or his head with fishing spears? 32 Merely place your hand upon his head, and you will remember war no

Comments

1 . Job has no answer. He has been numbed as if stung by the Socratic sting ray fish. Once Job thought that he knew what justice was, but he did not. Now he neither knows nor believes that he knows. The sight of the six beasts has convinced him that Elihu was right, and that his warning was just. The world beyond man is no place for a man. Job has been converted from the Brother of

Father' the Jackal to one who would "call out to the muck 'Thou art my and

'Mother' 'Sister' maggots." call out and to the

2. If Job's recantation had been what God had wanted, He has it right here at

this point. There would have been no need to continue. But the Tempest will not let Job go. Again it says, "gird up your loins like a man (gebher)"; and "telling," "asking." again his teaching is not a but an 3. God's argument is, I believe, somewhat more specific than one might at

first take it to be. "Have you an arm like God's, and can you thunder in a voice His?" such as God seems to base His argument on His power, but Job had always recognized God's greater power. Indeed, that was always the problem:

Job 9:19 If trial be by strength, He is the mighty one, and if by court of law, who would plead my case? The Book of Job 3 1

When Job thought that he knew what justice was, he also thought that he had the means to establish that justice. In the last two chapters, however, it has become clear that Job's understanding of justice was defective in that he had not realized that an adequate attempt to address the problem of human justice requires that one journey beyond the sphere of human justice to face the prob lem of what one might wish to call cosmic justice. The next two chapters will deal with the question of the administration of that justice. 4. Appropriately enough, God is joking. These do not turn out to be the means by which justice is established in the cosmos, and Job has yet much to learn of the spirit behind the administration of that justice. Job's search for human justice has led him into a world in which human action no longer seems relevant. Its vast forces are so wide sweeping that no decking would ever be seen and no outburst of his anger ever be felt, and it will take Job a time to see the implications of that kind of justice as it expresses itself within the sphere of

human action.

behemoth 5. The word is the normal plural of the feminine noun behemah, which means any large domesticated animal such as a cow or an ox. We have already seen it in Job:

Job 12:7 Just ask the beasts and they will show you; Job 18:3 Why are we considered beasts and made unclean in your eyes?

Job 35:10-11 none say "Where is God my maker, . who teaches us more than the beasts of the earth;

The verbs, however are all in the masculine singular.

6. "Behemoth whom I made along with you .. . eats fodder just like the

cattle." It is a normal part of the greater world around us, being neither miracu lous nor mythical. It is, however, clearly of mythic proportion. "His bones are iron." ducts of brass, and his limbs are like rods of The visible universe is much larger than any man knows and contains creatures which man did not name and of which he is unaware. Man is not the unquestioned center of all that is visible. 7. Compare

Ps. 111:10 The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom; a good understanding have all those who practice it. His praise endures for ever! Prov. 1:7 The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction. Prov. 4:7 The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom, and whatever you get, get insight. Prov. 8:12 I, wisdom, dwell in prudence, and I find knowledge and discretion.

. . The LORD created me at the beginning of his work, the first of his acts of old.

"laugh" 8. or 32 Interpretation

"oppress." 9. 'Ashaq is usually translated as It occurs rather frequently in the Bible and with the exception of this verse only, always implies injustice of the gravest kind.

Job 10:3 Does it seem good to You that You oppress, that You have

contempt for the toil of your own hand?

Lev. 19:13 You shall not oppress your neighbor or rob him. The wages of a

hired servant shall not remain with you all night until the morning.

10. The half-mythic, half-real fabric of this account succeeds in leaving the reader feeling that he shares a world with a living being of monumental stature whom he has never seen. This grand beast is at ease in the land of the Jackal. He finds room for the pounding, tyrannizing river, making it his drinking foun tain. He is passively ferocious yet actively gentle and seems to rule by laughter. Thus, we must now begin a rather long and, I fear, somewhat boring foot "laughter" "play." note on the subject of and I believe that the subject plays a role in the Book of Job which differs from its role in the other books of the Bible, with the possible exception of the Book of Proverbs. There is, however, no way of seeing that other than looking at each usage, verse by verse. I shall limit our inquiry to the words shq and shq, since words like I'g essentially "mocking" "derision." mean or

"laughter." It must be remembered that we are only speaking of Joy and happiness are another matter.

The first person in the Bible to laugh was Abraham:

Gen. 17:17 Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed, and said to himself, "Shall a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Shall

child?" Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a

But from the next verses it becomes clear that it was not a contented laughter:

Gen. 17:18 And Abraham said to God, "O that Ishmael might live in thy

sight!" God said, "No, but Sarah your wife shall bear you a son, and you shall call his name Isaac. I will establish my covenant with him as an everlasting covenant for his descendants after him.

Sarah's laughter came next:

Gen. 18:12 So Sarah to laughed herself, saying, "After I have grown old, and my husband is old, shall I have pleasure?"

But had her laughter been goodnatured, she would have felt no need to deny that she had laughed.

Gen. 18:13 The LORD said to Abraham, "Why did Sarah laugh, and say, 'Shall I Indeed bear a old?' child, now that I am Is anything too hard The Book of Job 33

for the LORD? At the appointed time I will return to you, in the

son." spring, and Sarah shall have a But Sarah denied, saying, "I did laugh." not laugh"; for she was afraid. He said, "No, but you did

Then came the taunting laughter of the sons-in-law of Lot:

Gen. 19:14 So Lot went out and said to his sons-in-law, who were to marry his daughters, "Up, get out of this place; for the LORD is about to

city." destroy the But he seemed to his sons-in-law to be jesting.

Sarah:

Gen. 21:6 And Sarah said, "God has made a laughingstock of me; every one

me." who hears will laugh at

Next there came Ishmael:

Gen. 21:9 But Sarah saw the son of Hagar the Egyptian, whom she had borne to Abraham, playing with her son Isaac.

It is hard to have any idea of what Ishmael was actually doing, but certainly the consequences were disastrous. Foolish Isaac's innocent play also betrayed him.

Gen. 26:8 When he had been there a long time, Abimelech king of the Philistines looked out of a window and saw Isaac joking with Rebekah his wife.

The next two occurrences of the word are usually even translated by the word "insult":

Gen. 39:14 she called to the men of her household and said to them, "See, he has brought among us a Hebrew to insult us; he came in to me to lie with me, and I cried out with a loud voice; Gen. 39:17 and she told him the same story, saying, "The Hebrew servant, whom you have brought among us, came in to me to insult me;

Then came the golden calf:

Exod. 32:6 And they rose up early on the morrow, and offered burnt offerings and brought peace offerings; and the people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to play. And the LORD said to Moses, "Go down; for your people, whom you brought up out of the land of Egypt, have corrupted themselves;

Next 34 Interpretation

that Judg. 16:25 And when their hearts were merry, they said, "Call Samson, us." the he may make sport for So they called Samson out of prison, and he made sport before them. They made him stand between the pillars;

Next came laughter and a tune that led to a revolution:

ISam. 18:7 And the women sang to one another as they made merry, "Saul

thousands." has slain his thousands, and David his ten

Joab and Abner play rough:

2Sam. 2:14 And Abner said to Joab, "Let the young men arise and play before

us." arise." And Joab said, "Let them Then they arose and passed over by number, twelve for Benjamin and Ishbosheth the son of Saul, and twelve of the servants of David. And each caught his opponent by the head, and thrust his sword in his opponent's side; so they fell down together. Therefore that place was called Helkathhazzurim, which is at Gibeon.

There is no question but that Uzzah's punishment which stemmed from the next laughter was too great.

2Sam. 6:5 And David and all the house of Israel were making merry before the LORD with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals. And when they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah put out his hand to the ark of God and took hold of it, for the oxen stumbled. And the anger of the LORD was kindled against Uzzah; and God smote him there because he put forth his hand to the ark; and he died there beside the ark of God.

The same might even be said for Michal:

2Sam. 6:21 And David said to Michal, "It was before the LORD, who chose me above your father, and above all his house, to appoint me as prince over Israel, the people of the LORD and I will make merry before the LORD. I will make myself yet more contemptible than this, and I will be abased in your eyes; but by the maids of whom you honor." have spoken, by them I shall be held in

Then come mocking and scorning

2Chron. 30:10 So the couriers went from city to city through the country of Ephraim and Manasseh, and as far as Zebulun; but they laughed them to scorn, and mocked them. The Book of Job 35

Even the good laughing at the bad is not the same as goodnatured laughter:

Ps. 2:4 He who sits in the heavens laughs; the LORD has them in derision. Ps. 37:13 but the LORD laughs at the wicked, for he sees that his day is coming.

Ps. 52:5-6 But God will break you down for ever; he will snatch and tear you from your tent; he will uproot you from the land of the living. Selah. The righteous shall see, and fear, and shall laugh at him, saying, Ps. 59:8 But thou, O LORD, dost laugh at them; thou dost hold all the nations in derision.

Peppered throughout the quotations from the Book of Proverbs, however, one finds another strain. There only do we find something closer to what we find in the Book of Job.

Prov. 1:26 I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when panic strikes you, Prov. 8:12 I, wisdom, dwell in prudence, and I find knowledge and discretion.

. then I was beside him, like a master workman; and I was daily his delight, rejoicing before him always, Prov. 8:31 rejoicing in his inhabited world and delighting in the sons of men. Prov. 10:23 It is like sport to a fool to do wrong, but wise conduct is pleasure

to a man of understanding. Prov. 14:13 Even in laughter the heart is sad, and the end of joy is grief. Prov. 26:18 Like a madman who throws firebrands, arrows, and death, is the joking!" man who deceives his neighbor and says, "I am only Prov. 29:9 If a wise man has an argument with a fool, the fool only rages and laughs, and there is no quiet. Prov. 31:10 A good wife who can find? She is far more precious than jewels.

.. . Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.

Ecclesiastes also has a rather dim view of laughter.

mad," it?" Eccles. 2:2 I said of laughter, "It is and of pleasure, "What use is Eccles. 3:4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; Eccles. 7:3 Sorrow is better than laughter, for by sadness of countenance the heart is made glad. Eccles. 7:6 For as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fools; this also is vanity. Eccles. 10:19 Bread is made for laughter, and wine gladdens life, and money answers everything.

"laughter" Jeremiah is not quite the same. He too rejects the of his day: 36 Interpretation

I I sat Jer. 15:17 I did not sit in the company of merrymakers, nor did rejoice; alone, because thy hand was upon me, for thou hadst filled me with indignation. Jer. 48:26 "Make him drunk, because he magnified himself against the LORD; so that Moab shall wallow in his vomit, and he too shall be held in

derision. Was not Israel a derision to you? Was he found among thieves, that whenever you spoke of him you wagged your head? Jer. 48:39 How it is broken! How they wail! How Moab has turned his back in shame! So Moab has become a derision and a horror to all that are

round about him.

and feels mocked

Jer. 20:7 O LORD, thou hast deceived me, and I was deceived; thou art stronger than I, and thou hast prevailed. I have become a laughingstock all the day; every one mocks me.

But he also has another notion of laughter.

Jer. 30:17 For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal, says the LORD, because they have called you an outcast: 'It is Zion, for

cares!' whom no one Thus says the LORD: Behold, I will restore the fortunes of the tents of Jacob, and have compassion on his dwellings; the city shall be rebuilt upon its mound, and the palace shall stand where it used to be. Out of them shall come songs of thanksgiving, and the voices of those who make merry. I will multiply them, and they shall not be few; I will make them honored, and they shall not be small.

It is reserved for another time and is not a way of meeting what is before us, however.

There are also such thoughts to be found elsewhere:

Ps. 126:1 A Song of Ascents. When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then they said among the

them." nations, "The LORD has done great things for

Zech. 8:4 Thus says the LORD of hosts: Old men and old women shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem, each with staff in hand for very age. And the streets of the shall be of city full boys and girls playing in its streets.

Outside of the Book of Job there are only a handful left. They read as follows:

Lam. 1:7 Jerusalem remembers in the days of her affliction and bitterness all the precious things that were hers from days of old. When her The Book of Job 37

people fell into the hands of the foe, and there was none to help her, the foe gloated over her, mocking at her downfall. Lam. 3:14 I have become the joke to all the peoples, the burden of their songs all day long. Ezek. 23:32 Thus says the Lord GOD: "You shall drink your sister's cup which is deep and large; you shall be laughed at and held in derision, for it contains much; Hab. 1:10 At kings they scoff, and of rulers they make sport. They laugh at every fortress, for they heap up earth and take it. Then they sweep by like the wind and go on, guilty men, whose own might is their god!

It might be noted in passing that the six references to laughter in the New Testament also imply only scoffing (cf. Mat. 9:24, Mark 5:40, Luke 6:21, 25, 8:53, James 4:9).

The first to speak of laughter in the Book of Job is Eliphaz:

Job 5:21-23 When tongues scourge, you will be secure and shall have no

FEAR of violence when it comes; but at violence and starvation you will laugh. Have no FEAR of the beasts of the earth, for you have a covenant with the rocks in the field, and the beasts of the fields will bring you peace.

"covenant" His laughter is rooted in the safety of a he will have "with the fields" rocks and the beasts of the but is not so different from laughter we have known before.

Job the outcast, also knew the grim side of laughter

Job 12:4 But now I have become a joke to my friends, one who would 'Call

answer' on God and have him a joke, a simple, innocent joke! Job 30:1 But now they have turned me into the joke, those younger than I whose fathers I would have felt contempt to put with my sheep dogs.

But there was another side of laughter, a side which had always been a part of Job and, if we are to judge by the many quotations given above, made him different from the others, even before all his trouble, and perhaps even before his real thought had started:

Job 29:24 I joked with them a bit so that my kindness would not overwhelm them because they had no self-confidence.

The subject was bound to come up, because one cannot fail to notice how much play and innocent laughter there is in the Tempest:

Job 39:7-8 He laughs at the clamor of the city, and does not even hear the drivers shout, but roams the hills as his pasture, and every green thing is his to search out. 38 Interpretation

horse and Job 39:18 She just flaps her wings on high, and laughs at a passing its rider.

Job 39:22 He laughs at fear and is not dismayed, nor is he turned back by

edge of sword.

Job 40:20 The mountains yield him produce, and all the beasts come there to

play.

Job 40:29 Can you play with him like a bird or tie him on a string for your young ladies? Job 41:21 He laughs to the sound of the javelin.

With Job, laughter ceases to be a thing hidden away for a better time or a luxury indulged in by those who are mindless of the times. It is a way of living with the times: "I joked with them a bit so that my kindness would not over

self-confidence." whelm them because they had no It is hard not to feel that there isn't some connection between Job's new understanding of laughter and his discovery of the signets. At first, this relation sees a bit strange. Identity really being what one is seems to be more a Dane." subject of tragedy than of comedy. "It is I, Hamlet, the It is in comedy that people seem more plastic, continually changing their clothing, their iden tity, and even their sex. Imagine Oedipus being mistaken for a long-lost twin brother. Yet it is Lear who asks: "Who is it that can tell me who I am? Lear's shadow"; and why must Hamlet insist upon things which can so be taken for granted by Rosalind, who knows full well who she is even while she is being Ganymede playing Rosalind? 11. Some English translations start Chapter Forty-one at this point.

12. See note to 3:8

13. Job has come, and he has seen, but he has not come to be the conquerer of nature. Eliphaz once had a dream:

Job 5:22 ... but at violence and starvation you will laugh. Have no FEAR of

the beasts of the earth, for you have a covenant with the rocks in the field, and the beasts of the fields will bring you peace.

but it was not the right dream: "Will he make a covenant with you to be your

slave?" eternal

To put it more succinctly, Job has come to learn from nature, but not to conquer it. To that extent, he has come to have its ways impressed upon him rather than impressing his ways upon it, and one of the things he learned, as we have seen from the ostrich, is the importance of freedom as it follows from an understanding of the signets. On this question, compare:

Gen. 1 :26 Then God "Let us said, make man in our image, after our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the and cattle, over all the earth, and over every The Book of Job 39

earth." creeping thing that creeps upon the So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. And God blessed them, and God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over

earth." every living thing that moves upon the

"subdue" "dominate," It should be noted that both words, and are quite defi

nite and strong:

Lev. 25:46 You may bequeath them to your sons after you, to inherit as a possession for ever; you may make slaves of them, but over your brethren the people of Israel you shall not take dominion, one over another, with harshness.

"subdue" In addition, the word for also has a sense of completion and final ity.

Josh. 18:1 Then the whole congregation of the people of Israel assembled at Shiloh, and set up the tent of meeting there; the land lay subdued before them. Jer. 34: 1 1 But afterward they turned around and took back the male and female slaves they had set free, and subdued them as slaves.

14. The world beyond man is not a world in which man can play; it is only a world in which he can learn about play. The charm of the sentence teaches us about innocent jesting, but the beyond is not ours. We cannot divide it up and use it as we will. To see it is to see it as a thing for itself, not as a thing for us. 15. In many ways this verse reminds one of the famous passage from Isaiah:

Isa. 2: 1 The word which Isaiah the son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem. It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the

house of the LORD shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, and many peoples shall come, and say: "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his

paths." ways and that we may walk in his For out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem. He shall judge between the nations, and shall decide for many peoples; and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they leam war any more.

But it is not the same. There is no promise of a great day to come one day that Job must wait for in expectation, but an act the he must perform now. 40 Interpretation

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

expectation' illusion.2 1 "Thus, [all] is an Do men not reel at the sight of brutal3 him? 2 No one is so as to rouse him up. Now, who is that one who would stand before me? 3 Who confronts me and [demands that] I give exact

restitution?4 mine?5 Is not everything under the heavens 4 "I will not be silent about him, or his exploits or the grace of his frame. 5 Who can unveil his outer garment, or come before his double-folded jaw? 6

doors6 Who can open the of his face his teeth surrounded by terror! 7 But his

closed8 tight9 seal,10 pride is the strength of his shields7, up by a 8 each touching

clings" the next, and not a breath between them. 9 Each one to his brother.

clutch'2 They each other and cannot be parted. 10 "Lights flash at his sneeze. His eyes are like the cracking of dawn. 11 Out of his mouth comes a flaming torch as sparks of fire escape. 12 From his nostrils there comes smoke as from a stream or boiling cauldron. 13 His breath ignites the coals and flames come out of his mouth. 14 His strength resides in his neck, and terror dances before him. 15 Festoons of flesh, fused all together,

quaver.13 lie on him cast as metal and do not 16 His heart is cast hard as stone, cast as a nether millstone. 17 "When he rises up, the gods are in dread. They shatter and are in confu sion. 18 No sword that will reach can stand, nor spear, nor javelin, nor lance. 19 Iron he counts as straw, and bronze as rotton wood. 20 No son of the bow can put him to flight. Slingstones turn to stubble 21 and clubs are rated as straw. He

javelin.14 laughs to the sound of the

22 "His underparts are jagged shards. He sprawls himself out implacable on

mud15 the 23 and makes the deep to seethe like a cauldron. He makes the sea

ointment16 pot17 his 24 and leaves a shining wake till the abyss seems all hoary- headed. 25 No one of the dust will have dominion over him, for he was made to dread.18 be without 26 He sees every towering thing. He is king over all the sons of pride.'"9

Comments

1. tohalto is from the root yhl (wait in expectation). Even the reader not much versed in Hebrew, or so I believe, can see that yhl is a near relative of the root hwl or which was hyl, discussed in the note to Job 39:1. It too, could, at

wait," mean "to times, but carried along with it a sense of dread, whereas this word implies hope or expectation.

It might also be of use some to the reader to consider how the root is used in the Book of Job:

Job 6:11 What strength have that I should wait in I, expectations? What is my end that I should prolong my life? The Book of Job 41

Job 13:15 It may be that He will slay me. I have no higher expectations. None the less I will defend my ways before Him. Job 14:14 If a man (gebher) dies, will he come back to life again? All the days of my service I have waited in expectation for my release to come. Job 29:21 Men would hear me and wait in expectation, falling silent to hear my counsel. Job 29:23 They waited for me in expectation as for the rain; their mouths opened wide as if to catch the spring rain. Job 30:26 I hoped for the good but there came evil; I waited in expectation for the light, but there came only a murk. Job 32:11 I have waited in expectation for your words and listened for your understanding while you searched for something to say. Job 32:16 I waited in expectation till they had finished speaking, till they stood and could no longer reply.

2. We have heard those expectations:

Isa. 27:1 On that day, the Lord with his sore and great and strong sword shall punish the Leviathan the flying serpent, and the Leviathan the crooked serpent: and He shall slay the crocodile that is in the sea. Ps. 74:14 You crushed the head of the Leviathan and gave it to the people of

the island as food. Job 3:8 Those who despise the sea, and those who are determined to lay open the Leviathan will curse it.

"expectation" If abandoning means primarily abandoning the expectation that the day will come the Leviathan will be crushed in favor of the alternative account of the Leviathan:

Ps. 104:26 There go the ships, the Leviathan whom you made to play with. They serve You and You give them their food in due time. Job 40:29 Can you play with him like a bird or tie him on a string for your young ladies?

then perhaps we can gain a deeper insight into the interplay between hwl and yhl. The Voice has introduced us to the first while denying us the second. The first has replaced the second. That is to say, that it is by giving up the yhl and recognizing that the world beyond man and its denizens have a legitimate being for themselves, apart from their being for us, that we begin to see our own legitimate being as it is implied in the notion of the hwl. Since the abandonment of expectation, YaChaL, insofar as it deals with our relation to the world beyond man, need not imply the abandonment of hope QaWah, which deals with our relation to the world of man, it might be wise to remind ourselves of Job's hopes as well:

Job 6:8-9 Who will see to it that my request comes to light; that God grant my hopes? Would that God were pleased to crush me, loose his hand and cut me off! 42 Interpretation

Job 14:18-22 A mountain has fallen and crumbled away, a rock dislodged

from its place. The waters have worn the stones away and its torrents have washed away the dust of the land. So, You have trashed all mortal hope. You have overpowered man, and he has

resigned. You mangled his face and sent him off. His sons were honored but he never knew of it. They were in disgrace, but he was unaware. His body surrounds him with pain, and his spirit is eaten away.

Job 17:13-15 If I must take the Pit to be my home, and spread out my couch Father' in darkness; call out to the muck 'Thou art my and call out

'Mother* 'Sister' and to the maggots, where then is my hope?

3. Job has passed through that veil which separates the human from the nonhuman. His journey had begun some time ago. He first felt it in the form of fear:

Job 30:29 and so I became a brother to the Jackal and friend to the ostrich.

But the forces pulling him back into the land of the Jackal had, in fact, already begun. Back in Verse 21 of that same chapter, Job had said:

Job 30:21-22 You have turned brutal and with the might of Your hand You

persecute me. You hoist me up onto the wind and set me astride to be tossed about in the wreckage.

"brutal," The word 'akf'zar, which I have translated as is not a very common word, and it occurs only twice outside the Book of Job. One of them reads:

Lam. 4:3 Even the jackals give the breast and suckle their young, but the daughter of my people has become brutal, like the ostriches in the wilderness.

"brutal" The word seems, then, to imply the attempt or desire to be or be come an actor within the realm beyond the human. But to see that "[all] expec illusion," tation is an is to see a world which man may admire, and in which he may first leam to recognize a world as a world for itself, apart from the needs of man. But that knowledge can only lead one to say: "No one is so brutal as to

up." rouse him

complete." 4. The root of this word, shlm, means "to be whole or From it "peace." comes the Hebrew word for

Neh. 6:15 So the wall was finished (shlm) on the twenty-fifth day the month Elul, within fifty-two days.

Then the word comes to mean "to pay [a debt]": The Book of Job - 43

2Kings 4:7 She came and told the man of God, and he said, "Go, sell the oil

rest." and pay your debts and you and your sons can live on the

lift." where the word for debt is related to a word meaning "to

whole," in" To pay a debt, then, is to "make or "to fill what one has "lifted

off."

This understanding is fundamental to human justice:

Exod. 21:36 Or if it is known that the ox has been accustomed to gore in the past, and its owner has not kept it in, he shall pay ox for ox, and the dead beast shall be his.

The goal of this kind of justice is to make those who have suffered whole again. To the extent that one must speak of punishment, one charged with a crime is punished for what harm he has caused others. This is human justice as it is contained in the notion of shlm. If, however, winnowing is the prime anal ogy of cosmic justice, then punishment for cosmic crimes can only be punished in terms of the harm man has caused to himself. In that sense, it does not

restitution." strictly make sense to "demand exact

mine?" 5. "Is not everything under the heavens Cosmic justice is larger than human justice. It leaves room for the Leviathan and insures that there will

is." always be grass even "where no man But its justice is of a winnowing kind. 6. In the note to Job 31:34 we saw the importance of Job's openness as

door." embodied in his "open But Leviathan is finally closed to man. We can know him from the outside only.

defend," shield." 7. meganim, from the root mgn, "to normally means "to Here it is taken by all to mean his scales. In either case, it means that the Leviathan, unlike Job, does have the kind of impenetrable skin the Satan spoke of. He cannot be disturbed by others. He cannot be hurt by others. No one can touch him. Therefore he cannot learn from others and so cannot learn to know himself. 8. The remainder of this chapter is clearly quite dense, and I am not sure that I can be of much assistance either to the reader or to myself. It might help, however, to begin by looking to see how the word sgr ("closed") is used in the rest of the text:

Job 3:9-10 May it not see the eyelid of dawn open, for it closed not the doors of my mother's belly but hid my eyes from toil. Job 1 1:10 If He should pass by and separate or close up, who can turn Him back?

Job 12:14 and what He tears down can never be rebuilt. He closes in on a man

and nothing is ever reopened. Job 16:1 1 God sets the wicked to close in on me and casts me into the hands of guilty men. 44 Interpretation

One cannot help noticing that the Leviathan finds his strength in being closed up, while Job's strength lay in his willingness to stand in the open entranceway. Job leaves himself open to what is most other; the Leviathan does not. Job's

skin." openness first came to light when we saw that he had no "skin beneath his This was the vulnerability that let in pain and anguish. But it also left him open to feeling and then seeing a world beyond his world. Job has seen the Leviathan, but has the Leviathan seen Job? His closedness would seem to say No. "tight," 9. sar. The Leviathan's pride turns out to be Job's old foe narrow ness. For Job it was the oppressive feeling of walls pulling in and sky cutting off. For the Leviathan it was his completion and perfection. For Job it was the beginning of murk and confusion. "Seal," "signet." 10. hotam for Job, What gave anything its being by mak ing it intelligible to another, has, for the Leviathan, become that which seals it away from all other beings, making it unknown and unintelligible to all others. "stick." 11. dabhaq, For us it is ugly, shameful, or constrictive:

Job 19:20 My bones stick (dbq) to my skin and to my flesh. Job 31:7 If my step has wandered from the way, my heart gone after my eyes, or a taint stuck (dbq) to my hand,

At best, it restrains speech:

Job 29:10 The voice of the nobles was hushed, and their tongue stuck (dbq) to their palate,

For the world beyond man, it is another thing:

Job 38:38 to liquify the dust and cast it into congealed (dbq) clods? and for the Leviathan it seems to be yet another.

Job 41:9 Each one clings (dbq) to his brother. Job 41:15 Festoons of flesh, fused (dbq) all together, lie on him cast as metal and do not quaver.

12. Iqd: It is important to see how very different this word looks to men:

Job 5:13 He traps the wise in their own craftiness as the advice of those contorted ones dashes headlong.

Job 36:8 But if are they bound in fetters and trapped in cords of affliction,

But, in the world beyond man, also consider:

Job 38:30 Water draws itself up, tight as stone, and the face of the deep clutches to itself.

Again, the list is complete. The Book of Job 45

13. Not so Job, who once said:

Job 6:12 Do I have flesh of bronze?

For man to be made of flesh is to be able to feel pain:

Job 19:22 Why do you pursue me like God, taking satisfaction out of my flesh?

Not to feel pain is not to understand pain;

Job 10:4 Have You eyes of flesh?

For Job, it is through the feeling of pain that we come to understand the notion of importance, by seeing ourselves willing to risk pain and death for that which is important:

Job 13:14 For what reason do I take my flesh between my teeth and my life in my hands?

The way his flesh lies makes it appear to be open to the other, but, like a flower carved in stone, the festoons of flesh cast like iron remain for ever, but forever in itself. 14. Nothing can be for him what it is for itself. Difference for him makes no

stubble." difference. "Slingstones turn to His total unawareness and indifference to the world around him is awesome. The lights which flash at his sneeze he uses neither to see by nor to read by, and yet we are arrested and can see only him. To see things as they are for themselves and not as they are for us, to appreciate the grass which grew where no man was, Job was forced to quit the world of man for a world unstifled by human need and let to be itself. But in that world only man, the stranger, through his weakness and otherness could learn to let things be. Only then could he return with a fuller understanding of human need. 15. Once an old Parmenides asked a young Socrates if he thought mud was anything in itself apart from what it is for us. The question would seem to be a bit absurd. Has mud anything better to do than to be made into a mud pie, or a brick, or a house? And we all stand upon the earth with never a thought of asking its permission. Nonetheless, we can almost feel the jagged shards cutting gashes into the ground. In this imagery we see the great destruction to others implied in his simple being. 16. Or "perfume"

Exod. 30:25 . . . and you shall make of these a sacred anointing oil

blended as by the perfumer; a holy anointing oil it shall be. .. . 46 Interpretation

of it on an Whoever compounds any like it or whoever puts any outsider shall be cut off from his people.

ISam. 8:13 He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. Song of Sol. 5:13 His cheeks are like beds of spices, yielding fragrance. His lips are lilies, distilling liquid myrrh.

17.

38:8 Who closed up the sea behind the double door when first it burst out of the womb

The sea, long in our tale the measureless realm of chaos and confusion, which had always threatened to engulf all, has become a simple utensil, instru ment of his innocent pleasure.

"dread" 18. The word which I have translated as is a very obscure word, and in fact appears in only one other passage in the whole of Biblical literature. Ironically, the passage reads:

Gen. 9:2 Panic and dread of you shall rest on every animal of the earth, and on every bird of the air, on everything that creeps on the ground, and on all the fish of the sea; into your hand they are delivered.

dread." But the Leviathan "was made to be without Thus, Job 41:25 emerges, and perhaps intentionally so, as a correction to Genesis 9:2. If the human sphere of understanding is to be of any ultimate relevance, man cannot be master of the visible universe. It is only in seeing a thing outside of himself as a being in itself, that man can begin to regard himself as a self. 19. shahas. The exact meaning of this word is not very clear. It only appears in one other verse in the Bible. The context is:

Job 28:7-9 The eye of the falcon has never caught sight of it, nor have the sons of pride ever trampled it over. The lion can bear it no witness, but man has put his hand to the flint and overturned its mountains by the root.

shahsa'lion," In Aramaic, the word means "a while in Ethiopian the root insolent." elevated," means "to be In Arabic, the root means "to be from which

man" rank." root comes the word shhis, "a bulky or "a man of Thus, there is disagreement among translators as to whether the Leviathan is over beasts or over men. king The ambiguity may not be totally unintentional, since it not so clear is that such a distinction is of any concern whatsoever to the Leviathan himself. It is not even clear that he knows that he is king, though king indeed he surely is. This grand beast, above and beneath all malice or ambition, oblivious to all, The Book of Job 47 rules all by the mere weight of his being. In him we recognize our limitations and hence see our definition.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

1 Then Job answered the LORD and said: 2 "I know that You can do all and

design' that no can be withheld from You. 3 Who is this one that hides counsel

without knowledge? I have spoken though I had not understood. There is a

wonders2 world beyond me, a world full of that I had never known. 4 Now listen and I will speak; I shall question you, and you will inform me. 5 I had hear;3 heard of You as ears can but now my eyes have seen You. 6 Wherefore I

for4 ashes."5 have both contempt and compassion dust and

And6 7 it was so, that after the LORD had spoken these words unto Job, that Temanite,7 the LORD said to Eliphaz the "My anger fumes against you, and against your two friends: for you have not spoken of me the thing that is right, as has my servant Job. 8 Therefore, get yourselves seven bulls and seven rams, and go to my servant Job, and offer up for yourselves a burnt offering; and my bear8 servant Job shall pray for you; for I will his countenance in order not to deal with you after your folly, in that you have not spoken of me the thing that has." is right, as my servant Job 9 So Eliphas the Temanite and Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite went and did according as the LORD commanded them, the LORD Job.9 also bore up the countenance of 10 And the LORD restored the fortunes of Job when he had prayed for his friends, and the LORD returned all that Job had, twice over.

sisters'0 11 Then all of his brothers and and all of his friends came over to

supped" his house and with him. They consoled him and showed him compas him.12 sion for all the evils which the LORD had brought upon Each one gave a

Qesitahn and each a golden ring; 12 and the LORD blessed the last days of his life even more than He had its beginning. He had fourteen thousand sheep, six

asses;'4 thousand camels, one thousand head of cattle, and one thousand she 13 daughters.'5 and he also had seven sons and three 14 The first he called by the Jamimah,16 Keziah,17 Keren-Hapuch.18 name of the second and the third 15 In all

beautiful'9 the land there could not to be found any woman more than Job's brothers.20 daughters, and their father gave them an inheritance alongside their 16 And Job lived another one hundred and forty years after these events, and knew his sons and his son's sons, and theirs, four generations. 17 And so Job died, an old man contented with his days.

Comments

1 . mezimah. It is terribly unclear how one should translate this word. Gener ally speaking it usually implies evil or wicked intent: 48 Interpretation

Job 21:27 Oh, I know what you are thinking, the machination you have

devised against me. Ps. 10:2 In arrogance the wicked hotly pursue the poor; let them be caught in the schemes which they have devised.

In the Book of Proverbs, however, it often means something more like "dis cretion":

Prov. 8:12 I, wisdom, dwell in prudence, and I find knowledge and discretion.

Jeremiah, on the other hand, uses it to describe God's plans against the

wicked:

Jer. 30:24 The fierce anger of the LORD will not turn back until he has

executed and accomplished the intents of his mind. In the latter days

you will understand this.

The verb in question, yibhaser, only occurs in the passive in one other pas sage in the Bible:

Gen. 1 1 :6 And the LORD said, "Behold, they are one people, and they have all one language; and this is only the beginning of what they will do;

them." and nothing that they propose to do can be withheld from

The verb, then, would seem to preclude taking the word mzmh either in the sense one finds in Proverbs or in Jeremiah, since in neither case is anything being spoken of which one would want to prevent. This leaves the first meaning, but that is also difficult to accept. Perhaps Job means, however, that that too can be accepted as long as it is known to be without malice or intent.

wonders," 2. "There is a world beyond me, a world full of literally, "[There

me." are] wonders beyond

ear," 3. Literally, "I had heard of You by rumor of the cf. 28:22. 'em' 4. 'al ken as wenihamti 'al 'epher we'phar. This is clearly a critical and contested passage. I also think that it has been much abused.

King James translates: "Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent on dust and ashes."The Revised Standard does about the same, except that King James at least puts the word "myself in italics, indicating that there is nothing corre to it in the Hebrew sponding text. Greenberg has "Therefore, I recant and re

ashes." but dust and lent, being Greenberg is more in line with the original punctuation which puts the major stop after the second verb rather than the first as the King James would require. The Cambridge Bible translates: "Therefore I melt away; I repent in dust and

ashes." Their is somewhat reasoning complicated. The root m's had already The Book of Job -49

ooze," occurred in Job 7:5: "My skin has become hard and begins to where it

ooze." meant "to It is also found in Ps. 58:8, "Let them be like the snail which

slime." dissolves into These passages, together with the fact that the roots mss

melt," and nms do mean "to seem to be behind their understanding of the verse. despise" "reject." The root m 's fundamentally means "to or It is, for instance, the feeling that God has when people offer Him sacrifices that have no real "recant," meaning to them. Again, to translate it as as Greenberg does, would require something like a "myself to be understood in the text, and there seems to be no basis for such an assumption.

compassion." The root nhm means "to feel deep sorrow or Like the English word, if one feels sorrow for something that one has done, one feels remorse, guilt, and repentance. But to feel sorrow or compassion for the suffering of others does not, in itself, imply anything like guilt or self-recrimination. "on" "upon." 'al; the word normally does mean or When King James trans

ashes," lates "on dust and one assumes that they mean "while sitting on dust

ashes," and but, so far as I have been able to tell, the inference which is so clear in English vernacular is by no means as automatic in Hebrew. 'al is exactly the word that one would expect to find following wenihamti, for." however, and together they simply mean "I feel compassion 'em' As far as the word as is concerned, normally one would have expected

em' 'em' as 'eth or as 'el, "I have comtempt for . . but it would not be so strange to let the 'al do for both.

ashes," ,epher we'phar, "Dust and is, of course, a common Biblical phrase meaning mankind in all its mortality.

Job 30:19 It throws me into the mire and I become like dust and ashes.

Also see

Gen. 18:27 Abraham answered, "Behold, I have taken upon myself to speak to

ashes." the Lord, I who am but dust and

5. Job the homeless is at home now. He is at home in a very large world in which no man counts for more than a hill of beans. He is also at home in a very small world in which each man is of infinite value. He can be at home in each world only because he is at home in the other. He also knows that that large and woolly world has in it a kind of love and a kind of laughter which only he and his fellows can establish in the world of the small. 6. Linguistically speaking, we have returned to Chapter One, back to the everyday language of Dick and Jane. This return by an author who knows the names of Eliphaz and Bildad and Zophar is, by the way, one more reason for believing that the book was conceived of as a whole, and that the linguistic flight from and back to the mundane was a integral part of the author's inten tion. 50 Interpretation

1. Again there has been a switch in the texture of the language. Gone is the tortuous syntax of the long middle section with its obscure vocabulary. The language is simple, but it is not a simple return to a fairytale world. All of that has been replaced by the language of ordinary everyday adult human speech. 8. Remember Aaron.

9. Job's eyes have seen, but that seeing took place in a foreign land in which his hands could not act, Job of the wide world is again Job the servant of the LORD, living in a nutshell. He who has seen the Leviathan will say a prayer for his friends as they bring their bulls and their rams to be sacrificed. The world of seeing turned out to be a world devoid of all meaningful human action, and Job has returned. 10.

Job 1:4 His sons used to make feasts in their homes, each one on a different day, and send word to their three sisters to come and eat and drink with them.

It might be worth mentioning that the only other Biblical character to use the

sisters," phrase "brothers and with all the sense of equality that it implies, was that wonderful woman of the night, Rahab:

Joshua 2:13 . . and save alive my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and all who belong to them, and deliver our lives from death.

11. The word 'aChaL that had so often meant death, destruction, and resig nation now holds together a world that can act and interact:

Job 5:5 All he has harvested the hungry shall devour even taking out from under the thorns: and the thirsty shall go panting after their wealth.

Job 6:6 Can what is tasteless be eaten without salt or does the slime of an egg white have any taste? Job 13:28 and all becomes worn out like a rotten thing like a piece of clothing that the moths have eaten.

Job 15:34 .. the tents of bribery are a consuming fire. Job 18:13 His skin will be eaten away; death's first born will consume his members.

Job 20:26 He will be consumed by an unblown fire and all shall go ill with the remnant left in his tent. 21:25- Job 26 Another dies in the bitterness of his soul, never having eaten of yet goodness, together they lie in the dust, and the worms cover them over.

Job 22:20 "Has not saying, our enemy been destroyed, their remains fire?" consumed by Job 31:8 then let me sow, but another eat The Book of Job 51

Job 31:12 It would be a fire consuming down to Abaddon, uprooting all that I have ever accomplished.

Job 31:16-17 How could I withhold pleasures from the poor or drain a widow's eye, or even eat a crust of bread alone, not sharing it with the fatherless, when they had grown up with me for a father? Job 31:39 claims that I have eaten its produce without payment and

snuffed out the life of its owners, Job 40:15-16 But look now, here is Behemoth whom I made along with you. He eats fodder just like the cattle, but look at the strength in his

loins. His might is in the muscles of his belly.

Now, at the end of the book, after Job's return, eating can lose its destructive character and become an act of simple joyous unity. 12.

Job 2: 1 1 Now when Job's three friends had heard of all the evils that had come upon him, they came each from his own place Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamatite. They conferred with one another and planned to come together to console him and to

show him compassion.

What was not possible before has now become actual. The recognition of compassion that Job gained from beyond the human sphere has had its full effect within the human sphere. 13.

Gen. 33:19 And from the sons of Hamor, Shechem's father, he bought for a hundred Qesitoth the piece of land on which he had pitched his tent.

Joshua 24:32 The bones of Joseph which the people of Israel brought up from Egypt were buried at Shechem, in the portion of ground which Jacob bought from the sons of Hamor the father of Shechem for a

hundred Qesitoth; it became an inheritance of the descendants of Joseph.

14.

Job 1:3 He owned seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, ten thousand head of cattle, five hundred she asses and was the head of a very large estate. He was the richest man ('ish) in the East

15. We remember:

Job 1:18-19 While he was yet talking, another one came in and said; "Your sons and your daughters were eating and drinking wine in the house of their oldest brother, when a mighty wind came in from the wilderness and struck the four corners of the house. It fell down on 52 Interpretation

the young people. They are dead, and I alone have escaped to tell

thee."

Nor have they been forgotten:

Job 42:1 1 Then all of his brothers and sisters and all of his friends came over to his house and supped with him. They consoled him and showed him compassion for all the evils which the LORD had brought upon him.

The Book of Job does not end with a deus ex machina or miracle or resur rection. In recognizing the being of all the things that are, including the being of death itself, Job himself becomes a self. "day." 16. It is from the word yom, or It is a new Job. We remember his words to his friends:

Job 3:1 Then, Job opened his mouth and spurned his day.

"cassia," 17. qesi'a, in English, is a fragrant bark of a tree that can be pow dered like cinnamon and used in cooking.

Ps. 45:8 Your robes are all fragrant with myrrh and aloes and cassia. From your ivory palaces stringed instruments make you glad;

18. keren happuli1: the first two names are clearly intended to be very beauti ful. Then, too, the very fact that the daughters are mentioned by name gives them a certain being and hence a certain nobility. But what of this name?

pukh The second word, means "antimony":

IChron 29:2 So I have provided for the house of my God, so far as I was able, the gold for the things of gold, the silver for the things of silver, and the bronze for the things of bronze, the iron for the things of iron, and wood for the things of wood, besides great quantities of onyx

and stones for setting, antimony, colored stones, all sorts of precious stones, and marble.

In ancient times it was ground into a powder, also called pukf1, and used by women as eye makeup. As such it became, in the pens of the prophets, sym bolic of feminine corruption:

2Kings 9:30 When Jehu came to Jezreel, Jezebel heard of it; and she painted her eyes, and adorned her head, and looked out of the window. Jer. And 4:30 you, O desolate one, what do you mean that you dress in that you scarlet, deck yourself with ornaments of gold, that you enlarge your eyes with paint? The Book of Job 53

"horn," Now let us look at the first word, qeren. It means and together the

Mascara," name means "the Horn of but qeren means so much more than

"horn."

A horn contained the oil used to anoint the kings of Israel:

ISam. 16:1 The LORD said to Samuel, "How long will you grieve over Saul, seeing I have rejected him from being king over Israel? Fill your horn with oil, and go; I will send you to Jesse the Bethlehemite, for I

sons." have provided for myself a king among his ISam. 16:13 Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the midst of his brothers; and the Spirit of the LORD came mightily upon David from that day forward. And Samuel rose up, and went to Ramah. 1 Kings 1:39 There Zadok the priest took the horn of oil from the tent, and anointed Solomon. Then they blew the trumpet; and all the people Solomon!" said, "Long live King

But, to begin at the beginning, the word means the horn of a living animal:

Deut. 33:17 His firstling bull has majesty, and his homs are the horns of a wild ox; with them he shall push the peoples, all of them, to the ends of the earth; such are the ten thousands of Ephraim, and such are the

thousands of Manasseh.

But the root also means "to shine":

Exod. 34:30 And when Aaron and all the people of Israel saw Moses, behold, the skin of his face shone, and they were afraid to come near him. Moses' The people of Israel saw the face of Moses, that the skin of face shone; and Moses would put the veil upon his face again, until

he went in to speak with him.

and hence, the word itself can mean "a ray of light";

Hab. 3:4 His brightness was like the light, rays flashed from his hand; and there he veiled his power.

The homs of an animal are his strength and his defense. They give him greater stature and a formidable look:

ISam. 2:10 The adversaries of the LORD shall be broken to pieces; against

them he will thunder in heaven. The LORD will judge the ends of the

earth; he will give strength to his king, and exalt the horn of his

anointed.

And so it comes to mean all these things for a human being:

ISam. 2:1 Hannah also prayed and said, "My heart exults in the LORD; my horn exalted in the LORD. My mouth derides my enemies, because I rejoice in thy salvation. 54 Interpretation

boast," Ps. 75:4 I say to the boastful, "Do not and to the wicked, "Do not lift horn;" up your Ps. 89:17 For thou art the glory of their strength; by thy favor our horn is exalted.

This is what Job had in mind when he said:

Job 16:15 I have sewed sackcloth over my skin. I have driven my horns into the dust.

Often the Psalmist will bring these meanings together:

Ps. 132:17 There I will make a horn to sprout for David; I have prepared a lamp for my anointed. Ps. 148:14 He has raised up a hom for his people, praise for all his saints, for the people of Israel who are near to him. Praise the LORD!

As I once before had occasion to mention, the hom played a central role in the place of worship:

Exod. 27:2 And you shall make horns for it on its four corners; its horns shall be of one piece with it, and you shall overlay it with bronze. Exod. 29:12 and shall take part of the blood of the bull and put it upon the horns of the altar with your finger, and the rest of the blood you shall pour out at the base of the altar.

1 Kings 2:28 When the news came to Joab for Joab had supported Adonijah

although he had not supported Absalom Joab fled to the tent of the

LORD and caught hold of the horns of the altar.

And, of course, it was the source of all kinds of music:

Joshua 6:5 And when they make a long blast with the ram's horn, as soon as you hear the sound of the trumpet, then all the people shall shout with a great shout; and the wall of the city will fall down flat, and the people shall go up every man straight before him. IChron. 15:28 So all Israel brought up the ark of the covenant of the LORD with shouting, to the sound of the hom, trumpets, and cymbals, and made loud music on harps and lyres.

mascara" Linguistically, too, the phrase "hom of works well, because it eas

oil" ily blends into the language along with such other phrases as "hom of and "the hom of my salvation":

2Sam. 22:3 My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold and my refuge, my savior; thou savest me from violence. The Book of Job 55

To put the argument simply, by conjoining the word queren ("hom") to the

pukh word in such a natural and ordinary way, the author has silently but force fully robbed the word of its sting. Its bare mention is no longer sufficient to conjure up a degrading image of womankind. 19. As is the case in the dialogues of Plato, there is a prima facie assumption that the beautiful is also good. That statement is by no means intended to imply that Plato was unaware of the problematic character of that assumption: only think of such people as Meno and Alcibiades. The Biblical view of beauty is also complicated and, so as to not mislead ourselves, we shall have to consider the full list. We have not, however, in cluded The Song of Songs, since it is a subject in itself which would have to be understood on its own terms. The subject first arises with respect to Sarai. From the beginning we are shown the difficulties involved:

Gen. 12:11 When he was about to enter Egypt, he said to Sarai his wife, "I know that you are a woman beautiful to behold; and when the Egyptians see you, they will say, 'This is his wife'; then they will kill

me, but they will let you live. . And when the princes of Pharaoh saw her, they praised her to Pharaoh. And the woman was taken into Pharaoh's house. But the LORD afflicted Pharaoh and his house with great plagues because of Sarai, Abram's wife.

And ultimately, her beauty almost led to the death of an innocent, though perhaps somewhat naive man.

sister." Gen. 20:2 And Abraham said of Sarah his wife, "She is my And Abimelech king of Gerar sent and took Sarah. But God came to Abimelech in a dream by night, and said to him, "Behold, you are a dead man, because of the woman whom you have taken; for she is a

wife." man's Now Abimelech had not approached her; so he said, "Lord, wilt thou slay an innocent people?

Although it is clear that as a young man, Jacob preferred Rachel's beauty to Leah's soft eyes:

Gen. 29:16 Now Laban had two daughters; the name of the older was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel. Leah's eyes were soft, but Rachel was beautiful and lovely. Jacob loved Rachel; and he said, "I Rachel," will serve you seven years for your younger daughter

But it is not clear what the reader is to think. Leah knows only gratitude each time she has a child:

Gen. 29:31 When the LORD saw that Leah was hated, he opened her womb; but Rachel was barren. And Leah conceived and bore a son, and she 56 Interpretation

called his name Reuben; for she said, "Because the LORD has looked

me." upon my affliction; surely now my husband will love She conceived again and bore a son, and said, "Because the LORD has heard that I am hated, he has given me this son also"; and she called his name Simon.

But Rachel always thinks in terms of battle and victory:

Gen. 30:1 When Rachel saw that she bore Jacob no children, she envied her

die!" sister; and she said to Jacob, "Give me children, or I shall Gen. 30:6 Then Rachel said, "God has judged me, and has also heard my voice and given me a son"; therefore she called his name Dan. Then Rachel said, "With mighty wrestlings I have wrestled with my sister, and have prevailed"; so she called his name Naphtali.

When she finally does have a son of her own, she reacts not with gratitude, but with a demand for another:

Gen. 30:24 and she called his name Joseph, saying, "May the LORD add to

son!" me another

Her demand was met, but at a very heavy price:

Gen. 35:16 Then they journeyed from Bethel; and when they were still some distance from Ephrath, Rachel travailed, and she had hard labor. And when she was in her hard labor, the midwife said to her, "Fear not; for

son.' now you will have another And as her soul was departing (for she died), she called his name Benoni; but his father called his name Benjamin. So Rachel died, and she was buried on the way to Ephrath (that is, Bethlehem).

Nor is it clear what we are to think of her charm:

Gen. 31:32 "Any one with whom you find your gods shall not live. In the presence of our kinsmen point out what I have that is yours, and take it." Now Jacob did not know that Rachel had stolen them. So Laban

went into Jacob's tent, and into Leah's tent, and into the tent of the

two maidservants, but he did not find them. And he went out of

Leah's tent, and entered Rachel's. Now Rachel had taken the

household gods and put them in the camel's saddle, and sat upon them. Laban felt all about the tent, but did not find them. And she said to her father, "Let not my lord be angry that I cannot rise before for the of me." you, way women is upon So he searched, but did not find the household gods. The Book of Job 57

But perhaps most telling of all is the ultimate superiority of Leah's soft- spoken son Judah over that master magician, Joseph, whom we saw at work in the note to Job 6:11.

Joseph himself was beautiful, but again it led to grave problems.

Gen. 39:6 So he left all that he had in Joseph's charge; and having him he had no concern for anything but the food which he ate. Now Joseph was handsome (beautiful) and good-looking. And after a time his master's

me." wife cast her eyes upon Joseph, and said, "Lie with

Then come the pointless cows:

Gen. 41:2 and behold, there came up out of the Nile seven cows beautiful and

fat, and they fed in the reed grass. ... And the thin and gaunt cows ate up the first seven fat cows,

On the other hand beauty as a fictional goal is at times implicitly praised:

Num. 35:33 You shall not thus pollute the land in which you live; for blood pollutes the land, and no expiation [beautification] can be made for the land, for the blood that is shed in it, except by the blood of him who shed it.

There is a law:

Deut. 21:11 and see among the captives a beautiful woman, and you have desire for her and would take her for yourself as wife,

but it must be read in the light of Cozbi.

David was beautiful:

ISam. 16:12 And he sent, and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome. And the LORD said, "Arise, he." anoint him; for this is ISam. 17:42 And when the Philistine looked, and saw David, he disdained him; for he was but a youth, ruddy and beautiful in appearance.

He was charming, and not to allow oneself to fall under the sway of that charm is to miss a great deal of the Bible. Nonetheless, one cannot totally forget his relation to Bath Shibah.

There was also Abigail:

ISam. 25:3 Now the name of the man was Nabal, and the name of his wife Abigail. The woman was of good understanding and beautiful, but the man was churlish and ill-behaved; he was a Calebite. 58 Interpretation

Tamar was a wonderful person, but her beauty caused her disaster:

2Sam. 13:1 Now Absalom, David's son, had a beautiful sister, whose name was Tamar; and after a time Amnon, David's son, loved her. So Amnon lay down, and pretended to be ill; and when the king came to see him, Amnon said to the king, "Pray let my sister Tamar come and hand." make a couple of cakes in my sight, that I may eat from her But when she brought them near him to eat, he took hold of her,

sister." and said to her, "Come, lie with me, my But he would not listen to her; and being stronger than she, he forced her, and lay with her.

Her brother was not so wonderful, but beauty did him in as well:

2Sam. 14:25 Now in all Israel there was no one so much to be praised for his beauty as Absalom; from the sole of his foot to the crown of his

head there was no blemish in him. . . And when he cut the hair of

his head (for at the end of every year he used to cut it; when it was heavy on him, he cut it), he weighed the hair of his head, two hundred shekels by the king's weight. And Absalom chanced to meet the servants of David. Absalom was riding upon his mule, and the mule went under the thick branches of a great oak, and his head caught fast in the oak, and he was left hanging between heaven and earth, while the mule that was under him went on. 2Sam. 18:10 And a certain man saw it, and told Joab, "Behold, I saw Absalom

hanging in an oak. . On the other hand, if I had dealt treacherously against his life (and there is nothing hidden from the

aloof." king), then you yourself would have stood Joab said, "I will

you." not waste time like this with And he took three darts in his

hand, and thrust them into the heart of Absalom, while he was still alive in the oak. And ten young men, Joab's armor-bearers, surrounded Absalom and struck him, and killed him.

For the sake of completeness I shall add the rest of the story, though I do not understand its importance:

2Sam. 14:27 There were born to Absalom three sons, and one daughter whose name was Tamar; she was a beautiful woman.

Next came poor Abishag:

1 Kings 1:3 So sought a they for beautiful maiden throughout all the territory of Israel, and found Abishag the Shunammite, and brought her to the king. The maiden was very beautiful; and she became the king's nurse and ministered to him; but the king knew her not. The Book of Job 59

Vashti's beauty did not help her, and there is little reason to believe she deserved her fate:

Esther 1:11 to bring Queen Vashti before the king with her royal crown, in order to show the peoples and the princes her beauty; for she was fair to behold.

Esther's beauty saved her people,

Esther 2:7 He had brought up Hadassah, that is Esther, the daughter of his uncle, for she had neither father nor mother; the maiden was beautiful and lovely, and when her father and her mother died, Mordecai adopted her as his own daughter.

but it is not clear what kind of a person she has become by the end of the book. The rest speak one way or the other for themselves:

Ps. 45:2 You are the most beautiful of the sons of men; grace is poured upon your lips; therefore God has blessed you for ever. Ps. 48:2 beautiful in elevation, is the joy of all the earth, Mount Zion, in the far north, the city of the great King. Prov. 6:25 Do not desire her beauty in your heart, and do not let her capture you with her eyelashes; Prov. 31:30 Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

Eccles. 3:11 He has made everything beautiful in its time; also he has put eternity into man's mind, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. Eccles. 5:18 Behold, what I have seen to be good and to be beautiful is to eat

and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils

under the sun the few days of his life which God has given him, for this is his lot.

Isa. 3:24 Instead of perfume there will be rottenness; and instead of a girdle, a rope; and instead of well-set hair, baldness; and instead of a rich robe, a girding of sackcloth; instead of beauty, shame. Isa. 33:17 Your eyes will see the king in his beauty; they will behold a land that stretches afar.

Jer. 4:30 And you, O desolate one, what do you mean that you dress in scarlet, that you beautify yourself with ornaments of gold, that you enlarge your eyes with paint? In vain you beautify yourself. Your lovers despise you; they seek your life. Jer. 10:3 for the customs of the peoples are false. A tree from the forest is cut down, and worked with an axe by the hands of a craftsman. Men beautify it with silver and gold; they fasten it with hammer and nails so that it cannot move. Jer. 11:15 What right has my beloved in my house, when she has done vile 60 Interpretation

deeds? Can vows and sacrificial flesh avert your doom? Can you

then exult? The LORD once called you, "A green olive tree, beautiful with goodly fruit"; but with the roar of a great tempest he will set fire to it, and its branches will be consumed. Lam. 2:15 All who pass along the way clap their hands at you; they hiss and wag their heads at the daughter of Jerusalem; "Is this the city which

earth?" was called the perfection of beauty, the joy of all the Ezek. 16:13 Thus you were made beautiful with gold and silver; and your raiment was of fine linen, and silk, and embroidered cloth; you ate fine flour and honey and oil. You grew exceedingly beautiful, and came to regal estate. And your renown went forth among the nations because of your beauty, for it was perfect through the splendor which I had bestowed upon you, says the Lord GOD. "But you trusted in your beauty, and played the harlot because of your renown, and

lavished your harlotries on any passer-by . at the head of every street you built your lofty place and prostituted your beauty, offering harlotry." yourself to any passer-by, and multiplying your Ezek. 27:4 Your borders are in the heart of the seas; your builders made

perfect your beauty. . The men of Arvad and Helech were upon

your walls round about, and men of Gamad were in your towers; they hung their shields upon your walls round about; they made perfect your beauty. Ezek. 28:15 You were blameless in your ways from the day you were created, till iniquity was found in you. Son of man, raise a lamentation over the king of Tyre, and say to him, Thus says the Lord GOD: "You were the signet of perfection, full of wisdom and perfect in beauty

... Your heart was proud because of your beauty; you corrupted your wisdom for the sake of your splendor. I cast you to the ground;

you." I exposed you before kings, to feast their eyes on Ezek. 31:7 It was beautiful in its greatness, in the length of its branches; for its roots went down to abundant waters. The cedars in the garden of God could not rival it, nor the fir trees equal its boughs; the plane trees were as nothing compared with its branches; no tree in the

garden of God was like it in beauty. I made it beautiful in the mass

of its branches, and all the trees of Eden envied it, that were in the garden of God. Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: Because it

towered high and set its top among the clouds, and its heart was proud of its height, I will give it into the hand of a mighty one of the nations; he shall surely deal with it as its wickedness deserves, I have cast it out.

Ezek. 33:32 And, lo, you are to them like one who sings love songs with a beautiful voice and plays well on an instrument, for they hear what you say, but they will not do it. Amos 8:13 that day the beautiful virgins and the young men shall faint for thirst.

Zech. 9:15 The LORD of hosts will protect them, and they shall devour and The Book ofJob 61

tread down the slingers; and they shall drink their blood like wine, and be full like a bowl, drenched like the corners of the altar. On that day the LORD their God will save them for they are the flock of his people; for like the jewels of a crown they shall shine on his land. Yea, how good and how fair it shall be! Grain shall make the young men flourish, and new wine the maidens.

20. Perhaps the best way of understanding the significance of what has oc curred is to compare it to the case of the daughters of Zelophehad:

Num. 26:33 Now Zelophehad the son of Hepher had no sons, but daughters: and the names of the daughters of Zelophehad were Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. Num. 27:1 Then drew near the daughters of Zelophehad the son of Hepher, son of Gilead, son of Machir, son of Manasseh, from the families of Manasseh the son of Joseph. The names of his daughters were: Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. And they stood before Moses, and before Eleazar the priest, and before the leaders and all the congregation, at the door of the tent of meeting, saying, Our father died in the wilderness; he was not among the company of those who gathered themselves together against the LORD in the

company of Korah, but died for his own sin; and he had no sons.

The first thing to note is that the daughters of Zelophehad received an inheri tance only because their father had no son. Had there been a son, the daughters would not have received an inheritance, but only a dowry. The text continues:

Num. 27:4a Why should the name of our father be taken away from his family,

The main argument here concerns the preservation of the name of the father, whereas in the Book of Job the inheritance is purely for the sake of the daugh ters. Thus, the next phrase

Num. 27:4b Give to us a possession alongside our father's brothers.

cannot convey the same sense of equality that one feels so strongly in the verse

Job 42:15b and their father gave them an inheritance alongside their brothers.

It should also be noted that it was Job's own decision to change his will,

given what he had seen in the Tempest:

Num. 27:5 Moses brought their case before the LORD. And the LORD said to Moses, "The daughters of Zelophelad are right; you shall give them 62 Interpretation

possession of an inheritance among their father's brothers and cause the inheritance of their father to pass to them. And you shall say to the people of Israel, 'If a man dies, and has no son, then you shall cause his inheritance to pass to his daughter. And if he has no daughter, then

you shall give his inheritance to his brothers.

In the case of Zelophehad, however, there was a further complication:

fathers' Num. 36:1 The heads of the houses of the families of the sons of

fathers' Gilead the son of Machir, son of Manasseh, of the houses of the sons of Joseph, came near and spoke before Moses and before the

fathers' leaders, the heads of the houses of the people of Israel; they said, "The LORD commanded my lord to give the land for inheritance by lot to the people of Israel; and my lord was commanded by the LORD to give the inheritance of Zelophehad our brother to his daughters. But if they are married to any of the sons of the other tribes of the people of Israel then their inheritance will be taken from the inheritance of our fathers, and added to the inheritance of the tribe to which they belong; so it will be taken away from the lot of our inheritance. And when the jubilee of the people of Israel comes, then

their inheritance will be added to the inheritance of the tribe to which they belong; and their inheritance will be taken from the inheritance of fathers." the tribe of our And Moses commanded the people of Israel according to the word of the LORD, saying, "The tribe of the sons of Joseph is right, This is what the LORD commands concerning the daughters of Zelophehad, 'Let them marry whom they think best; only, they shall marry within the family of the tribe of their father. The inheritance of the people of Israel shall not be transferredfrom one tribe to another; for every one of the people of Israel shall cleave to the inheritance of the tribe of his fathers. And every daughter who possesses an inheritance in any tribe of the people of Israel shall be wife to one of the family of the tribe of her father, so that every one of the people of Israel may possess the inheritance of his fathers. So no inheritance shall be transferred from one tribe to another; for each of the tribes of the people of Israel shall cleave to its own

inheritance.' " The daughters of Zelophehad did as the LORD

commanded Moses; for Mahlah, Tirzah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Noah, the daughters of Zelophehad, were married to sons of theirfather's brothers. These are the commandments and the ordinances which the LORD commanded by Moses to the people of Israel in the plains of Moab by the Jordan at Jericho.

Although the words "Let them best" marry whom they think clearly show genuine concern for the welfare of the women, tribal inheritance is paramount. Husbands are immediately found for the women from their own tribe, and the inheritance turns out to be little more than a grand dowry. The Book of Job 63

In the case of Job's daughters, however, nothing is said about husbands or dowries. The inheritance is outright and absolute. So far as I can see, that means that Job has established the right of women to own and hold property. Could this be part of a legacy that Job has brought back from a very large world to a very small world? The way was prepared by the names that Job gave to his daughters, and by the slight shift the author gave to our understanding of beauty. "just" For Job, the beginning was a clashing of worlds. One said while the "unjust." other cried The need for human friendship, and a need of clarity, the two refused to mesh. Human sociality and all it requires means nothing more than that by day men work together and in the evening they talk. Of what do they speak? Of the way to plant com, the way to go out on the hunt, the way to bake bread, the

us." way to bury the dead, and of the way to live as "one of Without these ways, there would be no com, there would be no bread, there would be no life. These ways must be taught and they must be learned. They must be taught, some by the fathers and some by the mothers, and it is the children who must learn them. But men are such that the stories that teach these ways cannot be

things" shared unless they touch upon "the first and tell of a world which holds all of our ways together. Without a whole, men are empty and life is without taste.

The need for clarity that came about when his world began to fall asunder ultimately led Job to the need for autonomous understanding, and hence to

things." questions concerning those accounts of "the first Out of the whirl of the Tempest came the notion of the signets, the notion that things had their own seal upon them and were what they were in them selves apart from human need. This recognition led to a shift in Job's under standing of and sensitivity to beauty. The needs of man may better be served by being open to the excellence of things as they grow of themselves than by seeing them as being directed towards those needs. This insight, in turn, led, as we have seen, to the emergence of the nurturing and swaddling God as distin guished from the making and constructing God. A small change in a last will and testament was the result.

Drama, Narrative, and Socratic Eros in Plato's Charmides

Andrew Reece Earlham College

Plato's Charmides is an evocative and highly nuanced dialogue, offering to the reader multiple themes for consideration and a variety of possible inter pretative approaches. Three formal factors of Plato's composition immediately open three corresponding points of entry into the work. First, the Charmides is an aporetic, definitional dialogue, a dramatized discussion in which Socrates and his interlocutors attempt but fail to formulate a satisfactory definition of a ("prudence," "sound-mindedness," moral term, in this case sophrosyne or "self-

sophrosyne?" control"). By leaving the question "What is (first posed at 159a) unanswered at the end of the text, Plato encourages us to review the proposed definitions (as Socrates does, 175a-c) and to scrutinize the processes of argu ment by which the investigation has derailed in aporia. Second, the Charmides is a narrated dialogue, featuring Socrates not only as a participant in the discus sion but also as a reporter of the proceedings to an unnamed friend on the next

day.1 In so casting his dialogue Plato gives his readers the opportunity to as "friend" Socrates' sume the role of the and to evaluate own commentary on the previous day's events. Third, the obvious care Plato takes to give the dialogue a particular dramatic setting demands that we pay close attention to details of characterization, locale, and time. Most studies of the Charmides have focused on the definitions of sophrosyne presented within the text and the complex and

knowledge" intriguing introduction of the concept of a "knowledge of (166e- 175a). I propose here to approach the dialogue by the second and third routes, Socrates' responding to narrative and the overall dramatic frame, in order to consider a theme not usually discussed with reference to the Charmides, So cratic eros. Plato prefaces the elenctic core of the dialogue by having Socrates tell the story of his introduction to Charmides, a story that has conspicuous elements of Charmides' an erotic encounter. Socrates says that when he met Charmides and cousin Critias the night before, he had just come back from battle at Potidaea and was happy to be able return to his usual stamping grounds in Athens. He wandered into the wrestling school (palaistra) of Taureas and met several of his acquaintances, to whom he gave a report of the fighting. After spending an undetermined time on this subject, he turned the conversation toward the latest happenings in the philosophical community, asking whether there were any

interpretation, Fall 1998, Vol. 26, No. 1 66 Interpretation

young men who had proven themselves exceptional for their wisdom or for their beauty (153a-d). It is worth noting that Socrates should have asked in one

philosophy" breath both about "what's going on in (peri philosophias hopos echoi ta nun) and about the physical attractiveness of the youths. Plato has already anticipated this juxtaposition of themes by setting the Charmides in a palaistra, where Athenian males would be stimulated both physically and intel lectually by one another's presence. We are reminded of the beginning of the Lysis, in which Hippothales and Ctesippus try to entice Socrates into a new palaistra by telling him that they and "a great many other young men good

ones" (203b).2 looking wile away their time there in discussion Already our author has established a link between eros, the desire for beauty, and philoso phy, the desire for wisdom, though the nature of that link is not immediately clear.

No sooner had he asked about the young men, continues Socrates, than a throng of them began to fill the room, all of whom, Critias told him, were the Critias' lovers (erastai) of cousin Charmides (154a). We learn that this cousin was by common consent the best-looking young man in his age group. Char mides himself soon entered, to the immediate discomfiture of all present, in cluding Socrates, who confides to his anonymous companion his impression of this youth:

My friend, I am no good at measuring. I am simply a blank ruler when it comes to beautiful young men. Nearly all men at that age seem beautiful to me. But still, Charmides seemed just then remarkably tall and beautiful. (154b-c)

Charmides' arrival had a like effect on all the men present, from the youngest

statue" to the oldest, all of whom gazed upon him "as if he were a (hosper

agalma 154c). Plato's use of words and images here is suggestive. What I have

ruler" translated as "I am simply a blank is literally "I am simply a white

measuring-line."

Atechnos leuke stathme eimi pros . . was colloquial for "I

make no distinctions in regard to. . . Presumably the expression derived this extended meaning from the fact that a line coated with white chalk could not make visible measuring marks on limestone or marble, so it is an appropriate image here while Socrates is looking at a man who seems to be an agalma, perhaps of stone. Socrates then says that his friend Chaerephon, who was also Charmides' present, remarked upon handsome face and added that his body was so singularly fine (pankalos) that it could easily cause one to forget the man's face altogether young (154d). There was, then, something unreal about Charmides' attractiveness. He was like a sculpted image, with a superhuman beauty, whose admirers temporarily forgot that they were looking at an individ ual with a distinctive face and a distinctive identity. The very magnitude of this Charmides' was beauty distinguishing feature to his other admirers, but the Drama, Narrative, and Eros in Plato 's Charmides 67 metrically inept Socrates, even while admitting his wonderment, reminds his companion in the narrative that beautiful youths qua beautiful now seem much the same to him.

Charmides' Socrates was indeed not convinced that he needed to see body, Critias' at least until he had assurance that his cousin possessed, besides his

thing," obvious stimulating qualities, "one other little specifically, "a noble

soul"(154d-e).4 Charmides' When Critias had answered that soul was indeed

"undressing" kalos kai agathos, Socrates suggested that part of the young man by means of a discussion. In order to prevent any impression of unseemliness, Charmides' he asked Critias, guardian, to call Charmides over. By making this Socrates' example of politesse explicit, Plato ironically heightens the erotic ambience. An older man in a palaistra approaching a youth could easily be suspected of sexual motives (and it was partly for this reason that fathers would often have paidagogoi attend their sons in such settings, to shield the boys from possible seduction. See Symp. 183c-d, Lys. 223a; Dover 1978, pp. 82-83.). By Charmides' telling Critias just before that he was interested above all in soul, Socrates turned the banter of the older men away from their carnal appreciation of the youth. At the same time, by having Socrates bring up the issue of wres tling-school protocol, Plato makes the reader aware that this meeting does at least have the appearance of a seductive approach. Happily Socrates and Critias were on good enough terms that they could collaborate in a ruse to draw Charmides to them. They pretended that Socrates knew a cure for headaches, the malady about which Charmides had recently been complaining. It may be that Critias suggested this scheme because it seemed to him a less erotically Charmides' charged scenario than a removal of the garments from soul (as McAvoy 1996, pp. 83-84, suggests). In any event, it worked, and Charmides came.

Charmides' Socrates continues his narrative, telling his companion that ap proach caused a great ruckus among the men sitting in the palaistra, with every man pushing his neighbor aside to make room on the bench for Charmides next to himself. He eventually opted to sit between Socrates and Critias, and Char

mides' sudden nearness threw Socrates into a dither:

At this point, my friend, I lost my bearings (eporoun), and my previous confidence in my ability to speak with him easily was knocked out of me. When Critias told him that I was the one who knew the cure, he looked me right in the eyes with an indescribable look and was on the verge of asking me a question. Everyone in the palaistra gathered round us in a circle, and it was right at that moment, my noble friend, that I saw what was inside his cloak. I caught fire, I was no longer within myself, and I came to regard Cydias as the wisest counselor with respect to matters of love. Speaking of a beautiful boy, he gave the following advice to someone: Take care not to go as a fawn before a lion and be snatched up like a piece of

meat. 68 Interpretation

I thought that I myself had been captured by a beast like that. Still, when he asked me if I knew the cure for his headache, with some effort I managed to answer that I did. (155d-e)

The Charmides is our only source for this Cydias fragment (Page 1962, 714), Socrates' which is all we have from the poet. citation of Cydias is significant for Plato's treatment of Socratic eros in this dialogue, but before elaborating its importance I wish to review what we have learned so far from the time Socrates entered the palaistra to his actual meeting with Charmides. Sophrosyne, the topic of the discussion that takes up most of the Charmides, has not yet been mentioned. Since self-control, particularly restraint from sex ual indulgence, was a typical understanding of the word's meaning, it is easy Socrates' enough to see that ability to overcome his immediate lust for Char dramatically.5 mides introduces one possible definition of the term Furthermore, the setting of this dialogue immediately following the battle at Potidaea may well have reminded some of Plato's original readers that Socrates displayed exceptional courage in that battle, and it certainly springs to the mind of a later audience familiar with the Symposium, in which Alcibiades praises Socrates both for courage and for sophrosyne (219d-220c). Although Plato makes a connection between courage and sophrosyne in other dialogues (Grg. 507a-c, Pit. 306b), these virtues were often considered a rare combination, if not mutu ally exclusive (North 1966, p. 97). But Socrates is a rare creature (Alcibiades "oddness," remarks on his atopia, at Symp. 221d), and perhaps it is not alto gether surprising that we should find courage and sophrosyne coexisting and complementing one another in his character. We might see here a suggestion from Plato of the unity of virtue, but more particularly we have an augmented notion of Socratic sophrosyne, in which self-control exhibits itself in coura geous actions. In the Laches Socrates and Laches agree that one can speak easily of courage in the context of resisting temptation and indulgence (191d). Though an elenctic investigation of the meaning of sophrosyne has not yet begun, these small dramatic hints help Plato to frame the upcoming discussion in such a way that it poses two questions for us rather than one. One question is explicit: What is sophrosyne? (159a), and another is implicit: What conse quences for our understanding of sophrosyne and of this dialogue follow from the fact that Socrates apparently possesses the virtue? The first question drives the elenchus of the Charmides. The second leads us back into a consideration of Socratic eros.

Diotima's lecture to Socrates in the Symposium is, of course, one of Plato's most important texts on the theme of eros, and it can enhance our understand ing of that theme in the Charmides. After she has explained to Socrates that eros is ultimately a longing for immortality through procreation (201c-208e), Diotima explains that while those who want to gain a kind of physical immor tality seek marriage and family, those who are more inclined to leave an intel- Drama, Narrative, and Eros in Plato 's Charmides 69 lectual or spiritual legacy hope to produce wisdom (phronesis) and excellence (arete) (208e-209a). Like a man who looks for a suitable wife to bear his children, the spiritual lover goes out to find a good match. Since love loves both beauty and wisdom (204b), and since the greatest kinds of wisdom "by far" are justice (dikaiosyne) and sophrosyne, the lover will prefer a combination of these qualities, someone who is both kotos and, at least potentially, dikaios and sophron:

If anyone should be pregnant in his soul with these virtues [dikaiosyne and

sophrosyne] even from the time of his youth, then when he is a man and old enough he will desire both to impregnate another and to give birth himself. Surely he too [like the man hoping to father a child] will go out to find some specimen of beauty with whom to reproduce; certainly he would never beget offspring with anything ugly. Therefore he will be attracted to beautiful bodies for his procreative intentions, rather than ugly ones, and if he should also come upon a beautiful, distinguished, and gifted soul, he will be very much drawn to this combination. In the company of a person like this he will be well-supplied with words about goodness (arete), about what sort of a man a good man is, and what sorts of activities he will pursue. He will try to teach the other. (209a-c)

Returning to the Charmides, we observe that Plato has indicated to us through the setting and action that when Socrates met his friends in the palaistra he had sophrosyne in his soul, at least if self-control might be considered the external manifestation of that virtue's inward presence. He was, we might say, pregnant with sophrosyne. If this is the case, he was merely acting like Diotima's spiri tual lover when he went out to the palaistra, hoping to find young men who were both kalos and wise, who could be taught impregnated with soph rosyne. It became quickly obvious that Charmides met the first qualification. For the second, Socrates felt that he needed to speak with Charmides face to

Critias' face, despite assurance that his cousin's soul was beautiful, like his body, and good. If the Socrates of the Charmides is a lover like that Diotima describes, we know that even should Charmides have turned out to be an ideal soul mate (the term is hackneyed but strangely appropriate here), Socrates would have passed beyond his infatuation with the young man's individual beauty and begun his ascent toward universal, eternal beauty (Symp. 210a-212a). Indeed, when Soc rates (as the blank ruler) confesses to his friend that he finds all young men more or less equal in beauty, he implies that either at the moment he met Charmides or shortly thereafter he had already started the movement to the universal. "Charmides seemed just then (tote) to be remarkably tall and beauti

me," ful to he says, but generally speaking he appreciates the beauty of all young men (154b-c). Socrates' We return to quotation of Cydias, who had warned the lover that one could be overtaken and consumed by a beautiful boy, just as a fawn would 70 Interpretation be reduced to a chunk of meat by a lion. This is a remarkable passage for several reasons, of which three come immediately to mind. First, Socrates, who Charmides' had been observing the behavior of swarm of lovers with detached amusement, reveals to his confidant that the sudden proximity of the youth actually sent him reeling into aporia. This physiological loss of composure foreshadows the elenctic aporia in which the dialogue concludes. In both cases, the aporia has a beneficial element. The bewilderment engendered by the Socratic elenchus ideally spurs the interlocutors to greater self-awareness, the perception of their own lack of knowledge, and finally renewed reflection. Sim Socrates' ilarly, sexual arousal here leads him to a new awareness of his sus Cydias' ceptibility to passion and causes him to consider the significance of Socrates' advice. The second striking point about the passage is that ability to turn a disconcerting, potentially embarrassing (if not unpleasant) event into an Socrates' opportunity for detached introspection indicates that sophrosyne, here shown in his control of his desire, consists in part in his intellectual appetite

appetite.6 having greater urgency than his sexual Third, by having Socrates cite this line of Cydias Plato appropriates a metaphor for erotic pursuit that would have been familiar to his readers, but it seems surprising that Socrates should choose (or perhaps construe) a version of the predator-prey image in which the lover (erastes) figures as the fawn and the object of his desire (the eromenos) lion.7 figures as the We might expect that the image would function the other way around. The usual formulation of the metaphor comparing an erotic pursuit to a beast of prey lighting upon its quarry, or as a hunter tracking game, does indeed give the erastes the part of the hunter and the eromenos the part of the hunted. For example, there seems to be a probable sexual connotation to Theognis 1278 c-d:

A lion, with trust in my strength, I caught a fawn in my claws, right out from under a hind, but did not drink its blood. (Cited as an image for erotic capture by Dover 1978, p. 58.)

Concluding his first speech in the Phaedrus, in which he denounces the selfish motives of lovers under the spell of eros, Socrates begins to launch into epic (as he admits he has done, 241e), singing, "As wolves are fond of lambs, just so do boys" lovers love (241d). Such metaphors are similar to the common compari son of sexual pursuit to hunting game (Dover, 1978, pp. 81-91; Halperin 1985, p. 165).

Socrates' citation of the line from Cydias, an inversion of the expected im age, has not always been recognized as such. For example, Jowett's translation stretches the Charmides text enough to make it approximate a more conven tional arrangement: Drama, Narrative, and Eros in Plato's Charmides 71

I thought how well Cydias understood the nature of love, when, in speaking of a fair youth, he warns someone "not to bring the fawn in sight of the lion to be him," devoured by for I felt that I had been overcome by a sort of wild-beast

appetite.8

In this version we can still imagine Socrates as the lion, who, perceiving his craving for Charmides, is aware that he poses some danger to the younger man (Nussbaum 1986, p. 92, also reads the text in this way). He then realizes the saliency of the advice given by Cydias. But what Cydias had advised the would-be lover of the fair youth was actually "take care not to go as a fawn lion" before a and be devoured: eulabeisthai me katenanta leontos nebron elthonta moiran haireisthai kreon [my emphases]. Thus there seem to me to be Socrates' at least two more likely readings. One way of understanding use of this inverted image is to suppose that he means he has been snared by his lust for Charmides, so that the lion in the poem stands for carnal desire, not for an individual whose beauty incites it. Another reading, and I think the one that most simply accommodates the text, interprets the inversion as a simple rever sal of roles. Since Plato has contrived to make his encounter between Socrates and Charmides seem very much like a lover looking over a handsome youth and striking up a conversation with him, he must mean us to go along with the game, so to speak, and to imagine Socrates as the erastes and Charmides as the eromenos. If we do, we will be inclined to expect the metaphor of the lion and fawn to refer to Socrates and Charmides, respectively. When Socrates says, "I

that," felt myself to have been captured by a beast like he most likely means that he found himself in the role of the fawn while Charmides became, only if momentarily, a lion, with the power to pursue, catch, and devour (McAvoy 1996, p. 90, also interprets the quotation in this sense). Socrates' If we understand quotation of Cydias in this sense, we can see that Plato is here foreshadowing the end of the dialogue, in which Charmides, whom Socrates had first approached as a lover might approach his beloved, slyly suggests that the pursued will become the pursuer. When Socrates, Critias, and Charmides have failed in their attempt to define sophrosyne, Charmides tells Socrates that the two of them should thereafter spend every day together in discussion. Critias and his cousin even playfully say that they will resort to plotting and force to make Socrates submit to their will. Socrates replies in kind

then," that if Charmides is really intent no one will be able to resist him. "So

either." says Charmides, "don't you resist me Socrates answers, "I won't resist

you" (176a-d). If we continue to follow the erotic subtext of the dialogue we

Charmides' can view realization of his desire to be with Socrates, to "see him

again," as a manifestation of anteros, a phenomenon in which the nominally passive eromenos of a sexual relationship not only enjoys his lover's advances but even reciprocates, perhaps to the point that the two roles are exchanged, or 72 Interpretation

become merged. In the Phaedrus Socrates says that in an ideal relationship eros should be met by anteros as a matter of course. He cautions that the sexual desires on either side of the relationship should be kept in check so that the couple may enjoy each other's thoughts and pursue wisdom together, but he does not condemn the desires of either party, which actually help nurture the relationship of their souls (255a-256e; cf. Symp. 210a. For Plato's treatment of eros and anteros in the Phaedrus and Symposium, see Halperin 1986.). The Socrates' Alcibiades of the Symposium says that eros aroused a corresponding anteros not only in Alcibiades himself, but also in Euthydemus and our very own Charmides (222a-b). The Charmides dramatizes the title character's expe

Alcibiades' rience of Socratic eros (just as the Alcibiades I dramatizes own first

Socrates' feelings of anteros). quotation of Cydias encapsulates this reversal of roles in a neat and surprising image. Continuing his story about his meeting with Charmides and the others, Soc rates says that once he had regained his composure and was able to speak, he told Charmides that the headache remedy he knew consisted of a leaf which had to be administered concurrently with a charm (epode, 155e). This cure he had learned from a Thracian doctor working under the patronage of the god Zalmoxis. The holistic Thracian had taught that a malady of the head or any other part of the body could only be cured through a regimen of care directed at the entire body and the soul as well. A Zalmoxian physician would apply the charm, which itself was composed of beautiful words (logoi kaloi), to the soul. With this charm he could cause sophrosyne to settle into one's soul and to be present in it (engenomenes kai parouses), bringing the soul to a healthy state and consequently expediting bodily health (156d-157c). In setting himself up as a practitioner of Zalmoxian medicine Socrates promised to impart sophrosyne

Socrates' to Charmides by means of kaloi logoi. version of the charm would Charmides' naturally prove to be an elenchus. It was in the hopes that soul would prove amenable to such a charm that Socrates had agreed to speak with him. Critias had quickened his expectation by assuring Socrates that Charmides would be willing to have a discussion and was, moreover, philosophos (154e-155a). Socrates' description of Zalmoxian therapy came from a lover standing on Charmides' the third rung of Diotima's ladder and looking up. He was drawn to body (step 1) but realized in time that its beauty was not so unique after all Charmides' (step 2). His focus shifted (not without difficulty) to soul (step 3). With some confidence in that soul's receptivity to sophrosyne, Socrates in effect made a proposal to the young man to join him in constructing a kalos logos. This would have been the next step, as Diotima defines it:

Then [the lover] must consider that beauty in souls is worth more than the beauty in a body. If someone is suitable in his soul, even if he has little to show on the that surface, will be enough: the lover will fall in love with him and care for him and give birth to (210b-c)9 the kinds of logoi that make young men better. Drama, Narrative, and Eros in Plato 's Charmides 73

The first logoi that would ensue would be conversations about the beauty (to kalon) of customs or laws (nomoi) and practices or activities (epitedeumata) (210c). In the Charmides Socrates, Charmides, and Critias begin their discussion of sophrosyne by considering likely manifestations of that virtue in practice, like walking and talking with deliberate, quiet circumspection (159b-160d), showing modesty (160d-161b), keeping to one's own work (161b-163d), and, generally, doing good things (163e-164d). They consider the element of to kalon only in the first of these activities, seeking to evaluate the others on the basis of their goodness and societal benefits. In other dialogues, however, Soc rates argues for the identity of to kalon and goodness (to agathon, e.g. Phil. 64e) and usefulness (to ophelimon, e.g. Rep. 457b); their investigation still fo cuses on the quality of admirability in various practices. Now the third concep

own" tion of sophrosyne, "doing one's (to ta heautou prattein), expanded as a principle followed by every member of a city, is accepted by Socrates and his interlocutors in the Republic as a definition for justice (433a). Indeed the Re public is a much more extended discussion of nomoi than is the Charmides, but

Critias' things" definition of sophrosyne as "doing one's own leads the three speakers in the present dialogue ultimately to a consideration of the social con sequences of sophrosyne construed in various ways (171d-173d). What Socra

tes says about sophrosyne later in the dialogue could be said perhaps more

naturally of dikaiosyne:

A house run in accordance with sophrosyne would certainly be run well, as would a city so governed, and so with everything else controlled by sophrosyne. (17 le)

Socrates, again, expands his logos about an individual soul (Charmides') to the level of a logos about nomoi. It has been observed that the meanings of sophrosyne and dikaiosyne often overlap in Plato, and it may well be that Soc

rates' apparent possession of sophrosyne in the Charmides implies his concomi tant possession of dikaiosyne, so that he has both of the virtues required by a Diotiman lover. (On the similarity in meaning of sophrosyne and diakaiosyne in Plato's dialogues, see Larson 1951). Socrates also prompted Critias to elevate the discussion to the next, penulti mate rung on Diotima's ladder: an appreciation of the beauty of knowledge (episteme). When Socrates made the observation about the benefits to a city of being governed according to sophrosyne, he did so with the provisional accep Critias' tance of definition of the virtue as "knowledge of the other knowledge

and of knowledge itself (166c). The consideration of sophrosyne as a form of

Critias' episteme began with statement that sophrosyne was the same as know ing oneself (to gignoskein heauton, 165b) and his agreement with Socrates that it must therefore be some kind of episteme (165c). From that point on, the

discussion of the Charmides remains fixed on the meaning, possibility, and

possible benefits for an individual and for a polis of a knowledge of knowledge 74 Interpretation

itself and the various epistemai. In the Symposium Diotima tells Socrates that the consideration of epistemai will allow the lover to see beauty in its most profound manifestation and coax from him the kaloi logoi of philosophy (210d). The contemplation of the beauty of the epistemai brings the lover as near as he can come to the vision of beauty itself. The discourse prompted by the contemplation of knowledge here reminds us of the kaloi logoi that com

Zalmoxis' pose the charm of therapy, as well as the philosophoi logoi that comprise the Socratic lover's discourse in the Phaedrus (257b). In the Charm ides these logoi can only be the elenchus. Sadly for Socrates, as it turned out, Charmides was not an ideal youth with whom to give birth to such discourse.

He dropped out of the discussion before the topic of episteme came up. Socra

tes' him.10 ascent could go no further with By reading the drama and narration of the Charmides with frequent refer ence to other dialogues, especially the Symposium, my intention has been to "about" show how one dialogue that is not, ostensibly, a certain topic, here eros, can reinforce the understanding of that topic we achieve through the other dialogues. I do not mean to imply that Plato intended his original audience to go back through the Charmides after first reading the Symposium to find the kinds of point-to-point comparisons I have been making. Rather, I am con vinced that when he wrote both dialogues Plato had developed an idea of philo

sophical love that he wanted to express through the character of Socrates. In the

Charmides he imagines how Socrates might have acted in the guise of an

erastes, while in the Symposium he imagines how the actions of a philosopher- lover might be expressed in theory. The fact that Diotima's ladder in the Sym posium reaches to the vision of the Beautiful in itself but that Socrates ap proaches no such level in the Charmides drama has little relevance for the question of whether Plato had in mind a theory of Forms when he wrote the Charmides. If he had, he would not necessarily have allowed that Socrates had had such a vision, and, in any case, Plato did not choose to introduce the theory as a solution to the question of sophrosyne.

I conclude with an observation about the significance of the narrative and

"proleptic" "ingressive" drama of the Charmides for the or reading of Plato's earlier dialogues proposed by Charles Kahn. For some years now Kahn has

("premiddle" argued that Plato wrote the Charmides and other early dialogues "threshold" or dialogues in Kahn's terms) partly in order to prepare his readers for the fuller, more dogmatic treatment that his middle dialogues like the Re public would give to the ideas presented with less elaboration in the earlier

works. According to Kahn's theory of prolepsis, the arguments of aporetic dia logues like the Charmides, Laches, Lysis, and Euthydemus would suggest ques tions to the reader that could only be answered by a consideration of these early writings with reference to the others and after the appearance of the middle dialogues (the Symposium, Phaedo, and Republic. Kahn 1996, pp. 56-70, 148- 291; 1988, pp. 541-49). As an example, he shows that the notion of the knowl- Drama, Narrative, and Eros in Plato 's Charmides 75 edge of good and evil, though rejected as a definition for sophrosyne in the Charmides and for courage in the Laches, has in common with the political art of the Euthydemus and wisdom in the Lysis a possible political dimension which only becomes fully understandable to Plato's readers after they have met the dialectically trained philosopher kings of Republic V-VII (Kahn 1996, pp. 203-9; 1988, pp. 542-46). One of the more modest of the methodological principles for which one finds elegant support in Kahn's work is the point that the aporetic dialogues look forward to the middle dialogues, while the middle works help the reader to a fuller understanding of the earlier works. (For an opposing view, see the critique of Kahn 1988 by Griswold 1988, pp. 550-51.) Although the specific details of his interpretation would perhaps not fit neatly to the kind of reading I have been pursuing here, I would suggest that there is a Socrates' kind of dramatic prolepsis at work in the Charmides, by which ac tions and narrative anticipate Plato's more expositive, theoretical explorations of Socratic eros in the Phaedrus and especially in the Symposium.

NOTES

1. The other dialogues in which Socrates narrates directly (as opposed to narrating to another character in the dialogue, as in the Protagoras and Euthydemus) are the Lysis and the Republic, but in those works he does not, as here, address his remarks to a specific second-person listener. 2. Cf. the Symposium, in which Alcibiades tells the assembled guests that one of his early "dates" with Socrates included a bit of wrestling. Alcibiades, who by this time was entirely smitten it." with Socrates, proposed this activity in the belief that "surely something would come out of See also Dover 1978, pp. 54-55. 3. Plutarch, for example, makes the comment that "a chatterbox [adoleschos] is simply a white

conversations," measuring-line about meaning that the topic of a discussion makes no difference to such a person, since he can speak endlessly on any theme (Mor. 513f)-

thing," 4. For the possible sexual innuendo of "one little see McAvoy 1996, p. 73 n. 25. 5. This observation has been made by North (1966, p. 154), Hyland (1981, p. 27) and, more recently, by Mahoney (1996, p. 184), McAvoy (1996, p. 82), and Kahn (1996, pp. 187-88). 6. Bruell puts this point well: "Socrates was not simply outside of himself; he also thought, he was aware of himself of how he stood in relation to Kydias with respect to wisdom; that thought was part of the experience, so to speak. And his awareness of all this, together with his concern for " his wisdom, gave him some power to resist what had been an irresistible passion . . (1977, p. 146).

Cydias' 7. I mention parenthetically the possibility that Plato puts a spin on poem that differed from what its author intended because the quotation alone does not indicate that Cydias had in mind the metaphorical relation lion : fawn :: eromenos : erastes. If Plato's readers expected even from

Cydias the more usual relation lion : fawn :: erastes : eromenos, the effect would have been an even more protracted pause in the reading than the one I propose Plato meant to elicit. 8. Jowett 1961, p. 102. Donald Watt's translation (1987, pp. 179-80) captures the ambiguity of the passage but seems to indicate Charmides as the referent for the lion: "When speaking of a handsome boy, [Cydias] said, by way of advice to someone, 'Take care not to go as a fawn into the

meat.' presence of a lion and be snatched as a portion of I felt I'd been caught by just such a creature." Kahn (1996, p. 187) also preserves the ambiguity of the text: "[Cydias] said in advising someone on the subject of a handsome boy 'to take care lest, like a fawn in front of a lion, he

beast.' sort." provide a meal for the It seemed to me that I had fallen victim to a wild animal of this 76 Interpretation

9. Kahn (1996, p. 270) also has noticed the connection between the logoi shared by the lovers Socrates' described in the Symposium and conversations with attractive interlocutors: "It is natural

Socrates' to recognize in these philosophical logoi an implicit reference to flirtatious conversations with handsome men like Meno, as well as reference to the protreptic speeches Socrates loves to address to much-admired youths like Charmides and Clinias (in the Euthydemus) or to beautiful Menexenus." boys like Lysias and

10. It is reasonable to suppose that Plato also intended his readers to come to the Charmides with the prejudice that Charmides, like Critias a member of the notorious oligarchic regime ruling "self-control," Athens after the Peloponnesian war, lacked sophrosyne in its manifestation as and therefore also in its manifestation as a kind of knowledge.

REFERENCES

Bruell, C. 1977. "Socratic Politics and Self-Knowledge: An Interpretation of Plato's Charmides." Interpretation 6: 141-203. Dover, K. 1978. Greek Homosexuality. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Plato." Griswold, C. 1988. "Unifying Journal of Philosophy 85: 550-51. Love." Halperin, D. 1985. "Platonic Eros and What Men Call Ancient Philosophy 5: 161-204.

Reciprocity." 1986. "Plato and Erotic Classical Antiquity 5: 60-80. Hyland, D. 1981. The Virtue of Philosophy: An Interpretation of Plato's Charmides. Athens: The Ohio University Press. Jowett, B., trans. 1961. Charmides. In E. Hamilton and H. Cairnes, eds., The Collected Dialogues of Plato. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Pp. 99-122. Dialogues." Kahn, C. 1988. "Plato's Charmides and the Proleptic Reading of Socratic Journal of Philosophy 85: 541-49. 1996. Plato and the Socratic Dialogue. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

sophrosyne." Larson, C. 1951. "The Platonic Synonyms dikaiosyne and American Jour nal of Philology 72: 395-414. Mahoney, T. 1996. "The Charmides: Socratic Sophrosyne, Human Sophrosyne." South ern Journal of Philosophy 34: 183-99. Charmides." McAvoy, M. 1996. "Carnal Knowledge in the Dialogues with Plato (Apeiron 29.4). Ed. E. Benitez. Edmonton: Academic Printing and Publishing. Pp. 63-103.

North, H. 1966. Sophrosyne: Self-Knowledge and Self-Restraint in Greek Literature. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. M. 1986. The Nussbaum, Fragility of Goodness: Luck and Ethics in Greek Tragedy and Philosophy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Page, D. L. 1962. Potae Melici Graeci. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Watt, D., trans. 1987. Charmides. In T. J. Saunders, ed., Plato: Early Socratic Dialogues. Hanmondsworth, Eng: Penguin. Pp. 163-209. Liberty and Revolution in Burke's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol

Mark Kremer

The University of Chicago

INTRODUCTION

Two of the most noteworthy and seminal events during Burke's life were the American and French Revolutions. He wrote extensively on both, and his judgements on them have formed judgements on himself. His own Whig party thought his condemnation of the French Revolution was inconsistent with his support for the Americans. Marx went so far as to attribute Burke's apparent lack of principle to his love of lucre. He wrote the following of Burke in Capital: "The sycophant who in the pay of the English oligarchy played the romantic laudator temporis acti against the French Revolution just as, in the pay of the North American colonies at the beginning of the American troubles, he had played the liberal against the English oligarchy, was an out-and-out bourgeois.'" Marx did not see any essential difference between the two revolu tions, because he thought both were part of an historical movement towards freedom. Burke's apparent inconsistency was also criticized by Paine, because he thought that both revolutions supported the rights of man. Like Marx, Paine failed to grasp the consistency of Burke's judgement because he failed to grasp the reasons for Burke's support of the Americans. He did not support the Amer ican Revolution because it protected the absolute right to freedom and equality.

He defended it on prudential grounds, and if one is to make sense of his differ ent judgements about the American and the French Revolutions, one must ex plain his peculiar defense and understanding of justice and liberty as they relate to prudence.2

Burke's defense of the American Revolution is properly seen in light of his opposition to the influence of theory or abstract ideas on political life. He was against Parliament during the American Revolution because their indignation, justified by a legal doctrine of sovereignty, was becoming a tyranny. He op posed the revolution in France because their doctrine of the rights of man was leading them to anarchy and a subsequent military despotism. Public spirited ness had decayed in both instances into hatred and revenge. Burke saw the threat of tyranny less from the selfishness of the bourgeoisie and from aristo-

interpretation, Fall 1998, Vol. 26, No. 1 78 Interpretation

cratic privilege, than from self-righteous authority and self-righteous rebellion fueled by general and abstract ideas. Burke's defense of prudence against principle and theory requires an appre ciation of his art. He did not write a theoretical work on politics. His speeches and letters are informed by the immediacy of events. Yet, in order to persuade his audience about the meaning of events, he had to reflect on politics as a whole. Burke's rhetoric and reasoning encompass the broadest questions about justice and government. To appreciate his thought and his peculiar genius, one

must learn to see the universal and permanent problems of political life in his treatment of the political issues of his time. In doing so, one gains the distance of philosophy without abstracting from the concrete political problems faced by citizens and statesmen. The absolute and abstract character of theory is a poor guide for political life

principle.3 because justice cannot be made into a consistent This means that however much Burke thought the laws to be the guardian of freedom, he also thought that they had their limitations. He is as famous for arguing that policy needs to be guided by prudence, rather than law, as he is for being a defender of constitutional government. Justice has two different aspects, and it is no small part of the art of the statesman to keep them from corrupting one another. The justice of law consists in its impartiality, whereas the justice of war consists in partiality to one's own country. The law must treat its citizens equitably, while those same citizens must treat as enemies the rebels and foreigners against whom they fight. The political association is constituted by both the aspect of law and the aspect of patriotism, because it is threatened on two different fronts. The equitableness of the law is a defense against internal tyranny, and the love of country is a defense against foreign domination. The political asso ciation is necessarily a mixture of the general and the particular, because it must regulate both the relation between citizens as well as the relation between citi zens, rebels, and foreigners. The Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol (1777) is an excellent portrayal of how Burke understood the conflicting aspects of justice and how he managed those conflicts in the defense of political liberty. The letter is a discussion about

Britain's partial suspension of the habeas corpus as a tool of war against the English in America. On account of the war being a civil one, there is a strong temptation, on the part of the British, to fight the rebels using the authority of the law. The American rebels are not only thought of as an enemy, but as treasonous criminals, who are disobedient to Parliament and unfaithful to En gland. The British do not simply want to defeat the Americans, but to punish them. In order to exact punishment, Parliament must use the form of law to

wage war, yet it must also partially suspend the habeas corpus in order to

execute American traitors. A disobeyed and unenforced law is not a law. It is

the nature of law to be effectual, and the British have modified theirs to ensure

its bite. It is, however, also the nature of law to be just. Its force ought not to Burke's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol 79

overreach the bounds of its justice, any more than its justice ought to overreach the bounds of what^can be enforced. In order to maintain the integrity of law, there needs to be a distinction between the realm of war and the realm of law, as the force required for war is of an extent that goes well beyond the equity required for justice under the law. Britain's combination, or rather confusion, of the realm of law and the realm of policy is very disturbing to Burke, and he foresees grave consequences from it. It is in this background of Parliament's

attempt to use the law as an instrument of war that Burke writes the Letter. Of all wars, Burke thought that civil wars were the worst, because they are most destructive to justice and piety.

Civil wars strike deepest of all into the manners of the people. They vitiate their politics; they corrupt their morals, they pervert even the natural taste and relish for equity and justice. By teaching us to consider our fellow-citizens in a hostile light, the whole body of our nation becomes gradually less dear to us. The very names of affection and kindred, which were the bond of charity whilst we agreed, become new incentives to hatred and rage, when the communion of our country is dissolved. (P. 189)4

The hatreds bom of broken love have a vengefulness that is not excused by either necessity or the common good. The spirit of murderous hatred dominates civil war. Although law might be partial in its object and patriotism in its devotion, they both require a bond of love that is accompanied by a feeling and an idea of the common good; they are not simply negative and destructive. By bringing the generality of law into war, the British destroy honest patriotism with hate; and by bringing the partiality of war into law, they dissolve alto gether the bonds of affection between citizens. The dissolution of a feeling and an idea of a common good among the British accompanies the extremes of barbarism tyranny and servility. Burke foresees the savagery of tyrannical hate and the slavishness of despondency as the extreme consequences of Brit ain's corruption of the law. The theme of Burke's letter is very well suited to its audience. The Sheriffs of Bristol have grown cynical and melancholy because the law to which they are sworn has become an instrument of crime and tyranny. Their cynicism and

177).5 melancholy are not, however, devoid of hope; they wish for peace (p. They have lost confidence in justice, but they have not lost their humanity. Their problem is how to restore peace without the sword of justice, and this is where Burke steps in to make their desire for peace more than just a humane

and pious hope. Burke puts his case for reconciliation with America before the

sheriffs and the public as he did earlier with Parliament in his Speech on Ameri can Taxation. He gives to the sheriffs political reasons, public spirited reasons, for pursuing peace. He in effect helps to mold and strengthen a peace party by articulating the issues, proposing a policy, and making a show of courage in the face of popular and Parliamentary hostility. His opposition to the war party is 80 Interpretation

expressed as a defense of justice against tyranny. The letter as a whole teaches and practices prudence by both teaching the limits of law and by supporting the belief in it.

The Letter shows that Burke's support of the Americans owed less to ideas about democracy and abstract rights than to his opposition to the fanatic effects of theory on political life and his desire to protect political liberty. It is in this opposition to the fanatic effects of theory and his defense of prudence that one finds the consistency of Burke's reflections on the two revolutions.

THE PARTIAL SUSPENSION OF THE HABEAS CORPUS

The partial suspension of the habeas corpus has two objects: "The first, to enable administration to confine, as long as it shall think proper, those whom

that act is pleased to qualify by the name of pirates. . . The second purpose of the act is to detain in England for trial those who shall commit high treason in

America" (p. 178). Burke argues that the objects of the suspension corrupt justice in four different ways: first, by confusing the order of crimes; second, by denying the accused a fair trial; third, by treating the guilty inconsistently; and fourth, by treating innocent citizens inequitably. All four corruptions can be traced to the all-consuming anger of Parliament. The partial suspension determines as pirates those American commanders

and mariners of private ships and vessels of war which fall into British hands (p. 178). The determination of enemy rebels as pirates undermines the equi- tableness of the law by confounding the order of crimes. Although piracy and treason share the same sentence (death), their equation blurs the difference be tween mistaken virtue and infamous action, and, therewith, the distinction itself

(p. 179). The determination of American rebels as pirates was made with the intention of insulting them, to add infamy to punishment. The British will not allow them the respect owed to a noble love of liberty or to a formidable enemy. In fact, the British will not even allow them the pity owed to the con demned; the image of death neither softens nor horrifies the British, but, to the contrary, they rejoice at it. Hatred determines the crime, rather than the moral quality of the action. This habit of indulging their hatred threatens the morals of the British themselves.

The determination of American commanders and mariners as pirates reveals a disturbing state of the English soul. Their hatred is accompanied by pitiless- ness and fearlessness, because they do not entertain the possibility of their own deaths and defeat. Parliament has taken the tone of an angry and all powerful god, but, in fact, is behaving like a criminal tyrant. Burke says that it is the British who appear to be the pirates, because, under the cloak of law, they take the confiscated cargo, put to death the American naval men, and then distribute the cargo amongst themselves, rather than giving it to a war treasury (p. 179). Burke's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol 81

Their wrath, far from making the British godlike, makes them lower than the object of their own insults. By allowing their indignation to dictate the order of crimes, rather than the moral qualities of the crime, Parliament replaces justice with force and will. It is particularly important to understand that the blurring of the distinction be tween treason and piracy is only possible at the expense of love of country. Parliament denies a place for patriotism in the moral order and, therefore, finds itself in a world where strength is the only claim to authority; it acts like both a god and a tyrant in so far as its actions are not justified by country. This insolent strength is not only reflected in its characterization of American naval men as pirates, but also in its description of American soldiers in general. After some American defeats, the British insult them by calling them cowards, as if they should have killed more British in order to prove themselves virtuous. In the absence of justice, manly defiance becomes the only virtue. This manliness is untempered by justifications and fears; it expresses itself in simple domina tion, whether it be the imprisonment and killing of enemies, or the taking of their goods. The spirit of just victory is completely lacking in the British. The second object of the partial suspension of the habeas corpus is "to detain

America" in England for trial those who shall commit high treason in (p. 180). But these trials cannot possibly be just, because the accused cannot possibly bring forward witnesses to defend himself. The accused is, therefore, tried ac cording to form, but not according to justice. This attempt to punish the Ameri cans through the law brings the law into disrepute, because the legal process appears to be nothing more than a cover for the arbitrary will of Parliament. Not only does the trial of Americans in England corrupt justice, but it does not even produce the desired effects of punishment. What example can an

American punished in England serve the Americans at home? The unjust pun ishments only serve to increase American vigilance. It is only the perverse pride and hate of a tyrant that could cause one to congratulate oneself for an

execution that will be retaliated tenfold upon one's friends. Burke does not

hesitate to point out that the partial suspension of the habeas corpus has its precedent in King Henry VIII (p. 180). The punishments serve neither justice nor the ends of war, which are victory, peace, or both. The proper place for the punishments is in America, and their proper time is after the war, should the English be victorious. Parliament cannot give punish ment its proper time and place, because it is blinded by its own indignation. The mere thought of shackling the Americans, tying them down in the hold of a ship (only to have them arrive half dead in England), and then tossing them in jail, where they will await a pro forma trial, ought to evoke feelings of horror (pp. 181-82). Yet the English in Britain are only hardened by the punishments; they have lost all feelings of pity and humanity for their fellow Englishmen in America, and Burke suggests that this pitilessness will become a permanent part of the British character, that they will become savage. 82 Interpretation

The punitive hate of Parliament even extends to the exchange of prisoners.

At the end of the war, the British are intent on punishing as traitors those prisoners who remain in their hands (p. 182). But, this action, like the deter mination of American naval men as pirates, corrupts justice because according to the reasoning of the action the earlier prisoners should have been punished, yet they were allowed to go free. It hardly seems just, never mind possible, to punish the exchanged prisoners, as a life was given in return for a life. The exchanged prisoners were clearly pardoned; therefore not to pardon the remain ing prisoners is to make innocence and guilt dependent upon circumstance. The respect for justice has much to do with how consistently the innocent and guilty are treated. Since the expediencies of war necessitate the unequal treatment of prisoners, it is more prudent not to make crime and punishment an issue with respect to prisoners. But the British parliament is incapable of such prudence, because it is punitive. The empty formality of legal proceedings and the inconsistent treatment of prisoners are not, however, the worst aspects of the partial suspension. It shakes the foundation of the nation by breaking the first principle of law, that it be general. The partial suspension draws the distinction between men in the differ ent realms and, therefore, openly denies some men their rights while protecting those of others (p. 186). The unequal treatment of American prisoners only treats the guilty unequally, but the distinction between men in the realms treats the innocent differently. This offense to justice is the act's most dangerous threat to political liberty. Burke says that, as far as he can tell, liberty is a general principle; the limiting qualification, instead of taking out the sting, en venoms it to a greater degree (p. 184). The issue of liberty is really one of equity. Liberty requires equality under the law, because it requires the belief in a common good between citizens. What makes the partial suspension of the habeas corpus truly dangerous is not its corruption of law, but its corruption of manners. The law would be of no effect if it were opposed to the feelings and ideas of the people. Burke finds it most disturbing that the partial suspension, far from being opposed to manners, accords with them and moves them further in the same direction (p. 188). The partial suspension codifies their hatred and dissolves the remaining bonds of affection between the British and the English in America. It dissolves the nation by dissolving the common good. How can there be citizens without the belief in shared fates? How can there be a belief in shared fates when the law separates those who are under it? This cynicism with respect to the possibility of justice has the effect of disaffecting decent citizens from politics altogether. The partial suspension destroys public spiritedness by destroying the public. Apathy is the accompanying obverse of legislated hate, because it leaves no place for decent political attachments. Burke's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol 83

PRELUDE TO DIALOGUE

By raising the issue of liberty and tyranny, Burke asks the British to look past the war towards the relation between the people and their representatives. He reminds the British that they are threatened by their rulers even more than by the rebels. He wants to awaken in the people the jealous love of liberty. He even wishes that some abuse of the partial suspension would touch them, as they are indifferent to its injustice only because they do not suffer from it. Burke's letter attempts to moderate the extremes of hate and apathy by encour aging the belief in virtue and justice. He first reminds the British of their noble past. He even speaks as a representative of the traditionalists, in order to en

courage love of country. But the British have lost their honest prejudices which supported their love of liberty. They have the shamelessness to celebrate the victory of German mercenaries and to herald the names of German generals, because they are less concerned with British virtue and glory than with doing harm to their enemies (pp. 189-90).

Burke says that it might be of some consolation for the loss of their old

regards if the reason of the British was enlightened in proportion to the removal of their honest prejudices. But, British disaffection for their past is connected to

a lack of concern for their future. Their hatred causes them to live in the pre sent; it blinds them to their own nobility and their own good. Since British public spiritedness has decayed into hatred of Americans, Burke must appeal to private advantage in order to moderate the British. He

speaks to the British as individual citizens with individual interests and moral

consciences. One of the ways to make the British think about their welfare is to destroy, with doses of fear, the confidence fueling their hatred (recent victories have made the British feel invincible). Burke reminds them that they have not increased their authority, despite American defeats. The British have spread devastation but have only the ground they encamp on and no more. Having made the British doubt the certainty of victory, Burke raises the specter of the unknown. He reminds them that the war has taken on a magni tude unimagined by those who either wished it or feared it. In order to give the fear of the unknown a biting reality, he tells the sheriffs that he was privy to secret information concerning the real threat foreign powers posed to Brit ain in the last year. He even uses images to induce doubt and fear; he says that the way ahead is intricate, dark, and full of perplexed and treacherous mazes (p. 191). The British must doubt themselves, if only through fear, be fore they can be enlightened. The specter of foreign powers is meant to re awaken the ties of kinship and the love of country. With the reawakening of the attachment to country, Burke can move his rhetoric from fear to shame. In light of the dangers which lie ahead, Parliament's obstinate fury appears both ridiculous and irresponsible. 84 Interpretation

It is no excuse for presumptuous ignorance, that it is directed by insolent passion. The poorest being that crawls on the earth, contending to save itself from justice and oppression, is an object respectable in the eyes of God and man. But I cannot conceive any existence under heaven (which in the depths of its wisdom tolerates all sorts of things) that is more truly odious and disgusting than an impotent, helpless creature, without civil wisdom or military skill, without a consciousness of any other qualification for power but his servility to it, bloated with pride and arrogance, calling for battles which he is not to fight, contending for a violent dominion which he cannot exercise, and satisfied to be himself mean and miserable, in order to render others contemptible and wretched. (P. 191)

Burke shatters the illusion of Parliament's godlike authority by bringing reason to bear upon its strength. Being limited in its strength, Parliament needs wis dom and justice.

In light of uncertain victory and certain death, manliness and cowardice must be understood as partaking of judgement, rather than simply force and will. Burke reinterprets this famous pair in light of the real situation facing the Brit ish. Far from being cowards, those in favor of peace are acting responsibly; "no man's blood pays the forfeit of [their] rashness. No desolate widow weeps tears ignorance" of blood over [their] (p. 199). Those in favor of the war, far from being manly, show little real magnanimity. They would offer themselves for battle but are content to hire German mercenaries; they promise their private fortunes and they mortgage their country; and they exult in triumph, as if they themselves performed some notable exploit, when kindred blood pours like water from the arms of foreign soldiers. The mocking insolence of the British is actually the hypocritical pride of a coward, who is courageous at the expense of others.

Besides laying a foundation for shame and love of country, the cold doses of fear that Burke throws on the heated anger of the British prepare a more ratio nal discussion of the war. With the awakening of their interests, Burke must discuss the rewards of war. He reminds the British that the goal of the war was to increase their wealth, rather than to punish and to subjugate. He also tells them that they will not get one cent from America. The British can at best hope to maintain trade monopolies, or at least the closest thing to them, but they will not receive money in the form of taxes, In light of this hopeless prospect, the best the British can hope for is to save their reputation not to look weak and foolish in frustration and defeat.

By reducing British hopes to the salvation of their reputation, Burke has prepared the ground for his plan. He has been building towards an explicit argument for reconciliation but could only make it once he had tamed indigna tion and greed. The fear of humiliation upon which he builds places the recent victories in a new light. are not They proofs of British invincibility but of good fortune. Burke suggests (he allows his audience to draw the conclusion for that the themselves) British should quit while they are ahead. He states to the Burke 's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol 85

British, as he stated earlier to Parliament in his Speech on American Taxation (1774), that to reconcile while in a position of strength is magnanimous and, to the glory of Parliament, will be popularly recognized as such. But Parliament remains under the illusion that it is omnipotent and believes that any limit placed on its power is necessarily a sign of weakness and an insult to its honor.

THE ARGUMENT FOR RECONCILIATION

The argument for reconciliation must address itself directly to the accusation of treason, as it is asserted that talk of peace encourages rebellion (p. 195). Burke argues that rebellions are provoked rather than encouraged. This is his first statement about British guilt. He is cautious in his blame; he moves to wards it slowly by first arguing that the Americans cannot be expected to initi ate peace. The British have broken so many promises that it would be absurd for them to expect to be trusted; they must earn that trust, and Burke shows them the way. As things stand, the Americans must trust in themselves, to risk death and defeat with their own arms, rather than certain tyranny. In order to break this circle of hate and distrust, the British must form a strong peace party in whom the Americans can place their confidence.

The way to form and strengthen the peace party is not through parliamentary debate. Burke has absented himself from Parliament, because his objections to its policies only increased its obstinacy. Honesty and prudence compel him to take his case to those decent citizens in whom there still exist justice and pity. In taking his case for reconciliation to the public (the letter is meant for circula tion) Burke is able to exploit the division between the people and their repre sentatives, a division that has lost its tension due to widespread hate and

cynicism.

The English in America will only put their confidence in a peace party that contains the popular support of the people. Without the affection and strength of their fellow Englishmen, the Americans are virtually alone. The obstacle to peace seems, therefore, to be the almost unanimous support for the war in England, both popular and parliamentary. Burke is faced with the dangerous and colossal task of dividing and conquering a nation unified in its hatred. He addresses himself directly to the unanimity by which Parliament justifies its American policy by first drawing the distinction between agreement and truth. If one man is to be heard above the voices of many, he must invoke a truth beyond the collective or conventional wisdom; Burke turns to reason as the

source and foundation of his policy. Burke's criticisms of unanimity are not direct criticisms of the people. He is not disputing their right to be heard but is rather competing for their ear. He is trying to make the people doubt Parliament and, therewith, themselves, by pointing to the arbitrariness of Parliament's American policy. Just a short time 86 Interpretation

ago Parliament unanimously opposed the war and was willing to negotiate a peace, because the British had suffered defeats. Now, having recently tasted victory, Parliament is unanimously in support of the war. Burke paints a picture of Parliament that is fearful and cowardly in defeat and confident and insolent in victory. Parliament lacks the gravity and constancy of reason and character; its passions and mind are enslaved to the prevailing fortune it meets. It rides the waves of chance and, therefore, can neither be admired by those who love virtue nor followed by those who worship the promise of success. The arbitrari ness of its policy cannot but induce doubts that can serve as a wedge to separate the lukewarm from the majority While Burke dares not accuse the British nation for the war, he can accuse British politicians. He implies that Parliament is waging the war for its own aggrandizement. Burke tries to awaken within the breasts of the British their jealous love of liberty. He turns their minds towards domestic politics, and he traces the cause of the war to bad government. He is thereby able to blame the British politicians for the war and to encourage a peace party with sympathies towards the English in America without appearing treasonous. The argument for reconciliation hinges on an argument about good government.

GOOD GOVERNMENT

In the Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol we see Burke attack the ruling author ity of Parliament and defend the colonists, because Parliament has given itself over to doctrinaire fanaticism. Parliament claims the right to tax the Americans, even though they have no representation, because Parliament claims to have the right of sovereignty. Burke recognizes Parliament's sovereignty only because it has exercised its power for a long time and continues to do so. Parliamentary sovereignty is not justified by an abstract legal right, but by habits of obedience (p. 205).

Burke argues that Parliament rules for the people. He does not argue that the

people have abstract rights, but that their desires should be respected because of their strength. The people are, at best, granted social rights (pp. 210-11). Par liament must, therefore, attend to public opinion, rather than oppress it.

I must beg leave to observe, that it is not only the invidious branch of taxation that will be resisted, but that no other given part of legislative rights can be exercised, without regard to the general opinion of those who are to be governed. That general

opinion is the vehicle and organ of legislative omnipotence. Without this, it may be a theory to entertain the mind, but it is nothing in the direction of affairs. (P. 207)

The government should exercise its rule with as much reserve as possible, so as not to offend the people. Due to the strength and variability of public opinion, the constitution ought to have offices which can be appealed to when public Burke 's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol 87 opinion changes. The government must act as a kind of grievance committee, and it must have the appropriate offices for the appropriate complaints. Thus it is wise not to destroy the convocation of the clergy or any other ceremonial offices, just in case they are needed (p. 208). Burke also mentions the veto power of the monarchy. If one puts together his discussion of good government with his policy of reconciliation, one sees that he flatters hopes to put pressure on Parliament, maybe even veto its legislation, through pressures placed on, and from, the clergy and the monarchy; they embody religion more than parlia ment, and Burke is quick to point out that, because of the fixed sentiments and beliefs of the people, parliament can no longer legislate religion. The voice of Burke and his friends is a weak minority, but it gains strength through the knowledge that there are institutions in which they might be heard. Since public opinion is so important, Parliament must understand the charac

ter of those over which it governs. If Parliament had listened to and had studied the Americans, it would know that the Americans are averse to any government other than a free one. Freedom must then be understood as it is understood by the Americans. Freedom is not an abstract principle, any more than is sover eignty; freedom is a feeling felt by those who are subjected to the rules of others. Freedom is primarily freedom from oppression and admits to various degrees depending on the people being ruled (p. 211). But Parliament is not paying attention to public opinion. The British are not studying the particular circumstances in which they must make a decision. They are not practicing prudence (the god of this lower world), but are thinking in terms of an abstract legal doctrine that fails to account for the character of the factions. Burke's defense of American freedoms, and even independence, ought not to be mistaken, as it was by the New Whigs, as a defense of freedom in general. He condemned the French Revolution in no uncertain terms, not because of a perverse humor, but because of a consistent opposition to the influence of ab stract theory on political life. Freedom, like authority, is susceptible to the ex tremes of theory. In light of theories of freedom, all government becomes tyranny and usurpation because freedom is thought of in an extreme form, such as doing what one wills. The perfection of freedom in theory is its death in politics. Reason cannot tolerate an inconsistent principle, whereas politics

demands compromise to the extent that first principles are better left uninvesti gated. By painting the world in extremes, theory tends to blame entire constitu tions for injustice, rather than the particular men in power or an easily remedied law. Compromise and reform, however, require the belief that the problem is not with the entire constitution, but with the particular men running the govern ment. If the people are sane enough to articulate their particular grievance and blame those responsible for the problem, then the responsible party Parlia

ment in the case of the American Revolution should be prudent enough to satisfy the complaint. The god of this lower world (prudence) is needed to secure the blessing of the lower world (peace). It requires compromise, and, 88 Interpretation thus, one must understand the demands of each faction and what is needed to satisfy them. In abstract theory, Burke sees fanaticism leading to the practical effects of both anarchy and tyranny. Yet Burke's criticisms of abstract theory are obvi ously not directed against general principles in general any more than his criti cisms of religious fanaticism are directed against religion in general. The idea of no taxation without representation does not arouse his criticism, as do the doctrines of the rights of man and the absolute sovereignty of parliament. He is favorably disposed to the former but critical of the latter two. No taxation without representation does not deny the legitimacy of a parliament to exist or the legitimacy of grievances against one. It is not a principle that is destructive of all order and prudence, because it is a principle of compromise, rather than hate; it implicitly acknowledges the possibility of legitimate authority as well as legitimate rebellion. The rights of man and the absolute sovereignty of parliament are, on the other hand, principles of destruction that are bom more from vengeance than an idea of the common good or of legitimate government. The former is bom of the antitheological ire of an atheist, while the latter has its source in the wrath

god.6 of a General principles of freedom and sovereignty serve to fortify puni tive hate because they make authority absolute while denying the opposition the right to exist. The French revolutionaries made their anger absolute by claiming to speak for the rights of man; they claimed to embody mankind, thus denying the church, the aristocracy, and the monarchy the status and rights they claimed for themselves. The British Parliament made themselves absolute by claiming the authority of a god; they denied their opposition the right to resistance. General theories of sovereignty and rebellion tend to fortify the most extreme passions, bom of the most extreme circumstances. Moments of self-righteous authority and self-righteous rebellion ought to be short lived, rather than cod ified, because they only extend and exacerbate the evils of civil war. Burke considered civil war as an evil worse than national wars because the violence of civil war is untempered by a concern for the common good. He even considered civil war worse than savagery, because the hatreds of civil war are more difficult to satisfy; they are bom from disappointed trust, and are defiant of past affection, and therefore contain an element of mission that is lacking in savage cruelty. Not the least of Burke's concerns was the alliance between the collective hate that is the heart of civil war and abstract philoso phy, as he saw that philosophic ideas were replacing religion as a new source of fanaticism. Abstract ideas fortify and encourage murderous hatred by lending cosmic and world historical meaning to killing the enemy. These feelings and ideas of significance drown out the feelings of pity and horror that are the humane emotions evoked by slaughter. One of Burke's rhetorical goals in the Letter to the Sheriffs ofBristol and the Reflections on the Revolution in France Burke's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol 89 is to restore simple feelings of pity, guilt, horror, and affection by describing the suffering and innocence of the murdered and the stupidity, malice, greed, and crimes of their persecutors.

The Reflections, in particular, is helpful for understanding Burke's opposi tion to abstraction, and especially to science. It is a stage upon which Burke brings before the eyes each of the revolution's victims the church, the aristoc

monarchy.7 racy, and the He gives them human feeling and justifies their exis tence. He shows their virtue and beneficence and thereby lightens the blackness with which they were painted. Burke also diverts the imagination away from the grandiose claims of the revolution to righting all wrong and to bringing about universal freedom and the brotherhood of man. He looks at the character of the various groups leading the revolution and shows how the actions of the revolution reflect their individual and low motives. He argues that the revolu tionaries slandered, broke faith, and placed personal gain before their ideals. In fact, he argues that revolutionary idealism was in effect, though not in theory, never anything more than a platform by which the merchant class, who resented their exclusion from title and honor, could satisfy their vengeance and pocket- books by confiscating church property and speculating on it. By looking into the actions and motives of the principles of the revolution, Burke removes the claim to justice with which they excused their faithlessness, confiscations, and executions. He defends decent morality and obedience to the law as necessities for a free people. Some might accuse Burke of being reductionistic and opportunistic. The goodness of the cause and the wisdom of the laws cannot be reduced to mo tives; Burke is fully aware of this fact and undertakes an examination of the new science of politics that is being used to found the French republic. He places the discussion of their science of legislation after the quasi tragedy in order to confirm through reason what he had evoked through passion. Their science of government is contrary to the first principles of politics, just as their crimes are contrary to human and divine law. The Reflections justifies obe dience to law by evoking the pity and fear accompanying the breaking of it and, then, by restoring calm and comfort by demonstrating that the revolutionary science of politics is destined to defeat and doom because it contradicts the

life.8 requirements of The incommensurateness of theory and politics comes into focus most clearly in the revolution's activity of legislation. The legislator must order a whole; he must have an understanding of the ends of government and of how each of the parts contribute to that end. This is especially the case in a philo sophic revolution, because the citizens need theoretical principles for knowl edge of their rights and duties. Burke says that the first law of revolutionary legislation is to destroy all that came before it. In this, the revolutionaries treat their own country in the same way as would a foreign conqueror. They destroy 90 Interpretation the beliefs and habits that united them as a people; they do not seek to reform but to build from nothing. This defines their task and the wisdom of their new political science.

Burke says that the revolutionary legislators have a disposition towards de struction. They have the taste of Paris, which means that they have feasted almost exclusively on satire.

Your legislators seem to have taken their opinions of all professions, ranks, offices,

from the declamations and buffooneries of satirists; who would themselves be astonished if they were held to the letter of their own descriptions. It is undoubtedly true, though it may seem paradoxical; but in general, those who are habitually employed in finding and displaying faults, are unqualified for the work of reformation: because their minds are not only unfurnished with patterns of the fair and good, but by habit they come to take no delight in the contemplation of those little.9 things. By hating vices too much, they come to love men too

The critical negativity that stems from a love of ridicule is compounded by the detachment and abstractness of the scientific mind.

These philosophers are fanatics: independent of any interest, which if it operated alone would make them more tractable, they are carried away with such headlong rage towards every desperate trial, that they would sacrifice the whole human race

to the slightest of their experiments. . Nothing can be conceived more hard than the heart of a thoroughbred metaphysician they are ready to declare that they

do not think two thousand years too long a period for the good they pursue. ... Their humanity is at their horizon and, like their horizon, it always flies before them. (Pp. 520-21)

Hate and abstraction are defects of the legislative soul, because they are defi cient in love. The legislator must have moderation in his soul. Philosophy must not place him beyond the suffering of his fellow human beings; yet he must not be so blinded by indignation at the spectacle of injustice that he hopes to bring about a Utopia through punishment and persecution. The legislator is neither philosopher, nor vengeful God, nor fanatic visionary. He is aware that all rebel lion contains evil, and that the habit of criticizing and breaking the law tends to make human beings completely lawless. Like the good seamstress, he must give the appearance of continuity to mends and patches.10 Burke's understanding of the good legislator is inextricably connected to his understanding of the nature of politics. The ancient sceptics had no public spir itedness because they thought the law was conventional; the modem atheists are revolutionaries because they think politics can be made rational." Burke denies that politics can be made fully rational, but that does not cause him to despise politics. By showing the conflict between politics and theory, he teaches the limits of both. Burke has two types in mind when he speaks of the thorough- Burke's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol 91 bred metaphysician the geometrician and the chemist. These two types are legislators for the new republic in France and have their ambitions set on all of

Europe and even the entire world. Reduction and abstraction are the essence of their sciences. Chemistry and geometry can only recognize the categories of substance (matter) and quantity, but these are the two categories over which man has no control. Legislation is a deliberative and formative act, and must recognize its own possibility (Reflections, p. 301). In order to do so it must recognize the uniqueness of human beings and the peculiarity of the political association. But chemistry and geometry are material and simple. Chemistry reduces human beings to their lowest common element, while geometry reduces them to number and shape. At best, chemistry and geometry can produce a division of labor, whereby chemistry uses its materialism to oppose authority, and geometry creates order by creating numerical groupings from an un differentiated mass; and Burke does, in fact, understand the science of the revo lution to have divided itself into these different functions. The chemists would like to turn all of Europe into a laboratory using men like rats. There is nothing the revolutionaries are more proud of than their chemical experiments (p. 524). The action and reaction of those experiments consist in tearing down the churches and the manors of aristocrats and then transforming the rubble into ammunition to be used against them. The materialism of the chemists expresses

itself in the political arena as antitheological and antiaristocratic ire. Its rebel lion is not, however, accompanied by a principle of order. Nothing can come from atomism except for infinite divisibility.

Geometry, like chemistry, cannot recognize the unique character of politics, but it promises to have the power of ordering, because it deals with number and

proportion.12 The political order is not, however, a mathematical order; its rela tions depend more upon accidents than upon numerical necessity. The geo graphical boundaries of political associations are formed by interest rather than symmetry, and they are meant to represent and to secure those interests. The geometricians who are dividing up France create districts according to number and shape and, therefore, ask for loyalty to a measuring stick. Burke understood that prudence and decent morality were threatened by the French Revolution, and he used his rhetoric and reasoning in many different ways on different occasions to show the Revolution's shocking immorality and ridiculous absurdities. In confronting the French Revolution Burke himself was forced to put forward the first principles under which morality and prudence live. His attempt to restore the political perspective from that of abstract rights

and science begins with the idea that the end of government is the satisfaction of wants.

Government is not made in virtue of natural rights, which may and do exist in total independence of it; and exist in much greater clearness, and in much greater degree 92 Interpretation

of abstract perfection: but their abstract perfection is their practical defect. By having a right to everything they want everything. Government is a contrivance of human wisdom to provide for human wants. (P. 370)

Burke did not derive from this end the equal right of each to be the sole judge of oneself, or to an equal share in government. To the contrary, from the funda mental end he derived a new basis for the rule of gentlemen and a new under standing of ancestral authority. He begins where other modern theorists began, but he combines the fundamental good with the old order. Burke opposed abstract theory in the name of the satisfaction of wants, not because he was against the idea of political right, but because he wanted to temper it against abuse from both authoritative and rebellious pride. If Parlia ment had satisfied the Americans by repealing the tax, then all the political differences between the British and the Americans would never have been un covered, for America had, by this point, developed its own provisionary mode of government. Ideological differences, or rather conflicts of principle, do not give rise to dissent among the people as naturally as do particular situations which clearly threaten their welfare and their liberty. Burke thinks that the people can live content under the watch of Parliament. Thus he argues that "unsuspecting confidence is the true centre of gravity

rest" amongst mankind, about which all the parts are at (p. 215). Unsuspecting confidence is simply trust that the government will not be oppressive and will interests.13 look after one's The British drove the Americans to rebellion by not looking after their complaints. Burke is willing to strip Parliament of the power to tax in order to restore American trust. Unsuspecting confidence assumes that the government will look after public interests and not their own private interests. But the actions of Parliament and the arguments of sophisticates suggest that all men act solely for themselves. The doctrine that man is selfish poses a great threat to unsuspecting confidence, because moral leveling destroys trust in government as such, since the belief in civic virtue is made impossible (p. 221). Burke therefore argues that there have been virtuous men who cared about the public. He asks the public to believe in virtue and to believe that corruption is not innate to government (p. 222). He also points out the opportunistic reasons that lie behind the opinion that all is selfishness; courtiers and political men would like to excuse themselves in or der to enjoy freedom from public scrutiny and indignation. Burke hopes to cure apathy and cynicism with spirited jealousy of one's own freedom and belief in the possibility of civic virtue. The belief that the government is inherently corrupt is a servile belief, be cause it is conducive to resignation. Why would someone attempt to change the government if he thought the change would not improve things? There would be no pressures placed on the government in order to keep it responsible to the public. If there are to be compromise and freedom, then there must be moral Burke 's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol 93 indignation directed at the government from time to time. Burke thus suggests that virtue is rare and weak, but that belief in its possibility better insures liberty. He does not want the people to become misanthropists who turn their backs on political life completely because they are accepting of though dis gusted by the greed, avarice, and brutality of political men. The people must, therefore, have a degree of public spiritedness, just as the aristocrats and parlia ment must show some concern for convenience and wants. Unsuspecting confi dence is not blind faith or apathy, but a trust that is called to account from time to time yet does not require the usurpation of authority and office. Burke preferred unsuspecting confidence to the rights of man, not so much because he thought there were no such rights, but because he saw that they entailed that each man be the judge of the means to his own preservation and

happiness and that he have an equal share in government to all other men. The authority of the people actually threatens the satisfaction of wants. They are competent to judge their grievances by their feelings, but they do not possess the character and mind to satisfy those grievances. They are easily misled by demagogues, who blame everything on the inequality of property and of author ity and who seek to remedy all ills by bringing both under the rule of equality. Burke thought the natural function of the people was to be a brake on the

rulers. The people are a visible strength that always puts fear into the few who rule; but, should the people rule, there would be no brake on them (with the exception of a military dictatorship), as they are too strong to oppose. Burke preferred the rule of gentlemen not only because of their education and expe rience but also because of their relative weakness to the people. Burke con sidered their fear to be a guardian of their virtue. Perhaps most important, however, is that the gentlemen have an interest in property and, therewith, in defending the habits of continuity on which it depends. The issue of property takes Burke away from the satisfaction of wants to that other moderator of partisanship patriotism. Every nation must exist somewhere to the exclusion of other nations. The French Revolution's claim to be defending the rights of man fails to acknowl edge that it was the rights of the French with which they concerned themselves. Even the claim to global revolution and liberation does not contradict the fact

that the French would not recognize the claim of an Englishman to an equal

share of French land. If a nation is to be more than a band of robbers, it must justify its borders to itself and to others. This necessity of justice means that equality must be understood as qualified by country. The people are the product

sovereign.14 of the constitution, rather than its The connections of birth that form attachments without any basis in one's own will or consent are not only necessary but also ennobling; they provide continuity and community. Burke's attempt to found attachments and authority on habits of continuity gains the status of morality in prescription. Some have thought that prescription gives so much authority to the past that Burke must 94 Interpretation have been a traditionalist. But Burke did not equate the ancestral with the good.

He did not think that the British constitution was the best form of government because it had divine origins and because it was his own. To the contrary, he thought it was the best form of government precisely because it came into being through a series of accidents over a long period of time. The origins are inferior to the end product, but the end product does not exist independent of the pro cess by which it came into being. The best constitution is not the product of the mind, or even an idea that can be conceived independent of practice. Prescrip tion is proven beneficence, and its greatest benefits are those habits of virtue and affection that preserve the constitution.

Prescription satisfies Burke's ideas of political convenience and political pa triotism. Prescription is a matter of satisfying want, for the process leading to the constitution is the result of satisfying a variety of needs and desires. He

economics.15 does for politics what Adam Smith did for The hidden hand is not, however, viewed by its beneficiaries as a series of accidents grounded in man's desires, rather, it is viewed as an unintelligible and superhuman force. Provi dence appears godlike in its mysterious dispensation, force, and beneficence. It is something to be respected. It gives the political body continuity and its citi zens a shared past and a shared destiny. Although providence brings a degree of harmony between natural desire and the common good, Burke never thought that history constituted a realm of reality. He never believed that history could be real, because he never believed that it could be rational. The British constitution is not Hegel's state. Burke defends the equity of the law and recognizes how important it is to the common good, but he never allows the idea of impartiality or universality to dominate politics. He was too impressed with the particularity of politics and its need for virtue to place so much emphasis on the law and its form. History is so far from being rational that it is turned to in order to support attachments that are threat ened by reason. Burke never lost sight of the conflict between the particular and the universal.

CONCLUSION

The spirit of equitable justice that is offended and dissolved by the partial suspension of the habeas corpus leads to the twin tendencies of tyranny and cynical despair.

is in of Liberty danger being made unpopular to Englishmen. Contending for an imaginary power, we begin to acquire the spirit of domination and to lose the relish

of honest equality. . . It is impossible that we should remain long in a situation which breeds such notions and dispositions without some great alteration in the national character. Those ingenuous and feeling minds who are so fortified against all other things, and so unarmed to whatever approaches in the shape of disgrace, Burke 's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol 95

finding these principles, which they considered as sure means of honor, to be grown in disrepute, will retire disheartened and disgusted. (P. 223)

By fighting a war with laws and punishments, the British Parliament has in fected justice with hatefulness and expediency. It would have been much more prudent for it simply to suspend the habeas corpus universally. The universal suspension would only outrage the public if it were abused at home. The partial suspension, on the other hand, contains its abuses within it. Prudence makes the former feasible, while the latter necessarily corrupts. Furthermore, a universal suspension would serve to foster the love of liberty and country by awakening the sense of urgency amongst all the citizens. Burke offers no greater counter example to the extremes of his time than

himself. He gives an account of himself as a representative in order to encour age the belief in virtue and the love of liberty. He does not court power by flattering the prevailing opinions of the people; he will not sacrifice his judge ment to the majority and even feels that it is what he owes them as a represen tative. So, although Burke recognizes the power of public opinion and the need to work with it, he also recognizes the need for public opinion to recognize virtue. He is not one of the people, but they can trust him, not only because they have elected him, but because he loves virtue and country more than himself. The greatest fault of the partial suspension of the habeas corpus is that it leads to tyranny and misanthropy by destroying an idea and a feeling of the common good. Burke constantly encouraged prudence in the governing, espe cially in the great, in order to guard against their authoritativeness and brutality; and he encouraged the people towards a measured jealousy of their liberty so that they would not become either slavish or ambitious. Burke himself is be yond the salutary hopes to which he lends credence. He is an example ofjudge ment and virtue, which goes well beyond the presentation of himself as a virtuous representative. Unlike Parliament, he is not godlike in his self-right eous wrath, but rather in his beneficence and wisdom. Burke did not portray the life of reason as an alternative to the life of the citizen and of the statesman. In turning to prescription and polemics against theory, he sought to preserve the perspective and attachments of political life. In particular, he sought to preserve prudence and public spiritedness from cynical apathy and indignant fanaticism. His politics was not that of a visionary, a God, or a misanthropist. Yet one cannot but suspect that his portrayal of the problems

of politics and his defense of its perspective could not be executed with so

much art unless he had seen past that perspective.

NOTES

1. Karl Marx, Capital I (Moscow, 1954) p. 260. C. B. Macpherson (Burke [New York: Hill and Wang, 1980]) follows Marx in so far as Macpherson saw in Burke a bourgeois capitalist above all 96 Interpretation else. Paine thought that all hereditary government was tyranny (Thomas Paine, The Complete Writ ings of Thomas Paine [New York: Citadel Press, 1945], vol. 1, p. 364) and thus he could not sympathize with Burke's ideas of prescription. For Burke's reflections on progress see The Works of Edmund Burke (London: Bohn, 1854-89), vol. 2, p. 279; vol. 6, p. 31; vol. 8, p. 439. 2. James Conniff (The Useful Cobbler: Edmund Burke and the Politics of Progress [Albany: State University of New York Press, 1994]) argues that Burke's understanding of change was not informed by conservative opinions, but by thoughtful considerations about the protection of liberty, although Conniff finds him too cautious for not advocating a more participatory form of govern ment.

3. Works, vol. 2, pp. 282-83, 358, 431, 520, 533; vol. 3, pp. 15-16, 431-32; vol. 7, pp. 94, 101. 4. All references by page number alone are to the Selected Writings of Edmund Burke, ed. W. Jackson Bate (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1960). 5. The mind and the disposition of the Sheriffs clearly remind one of the old man in whose character Burke writes A Vindication of Natural Society. 6. Conor Cruise O'Brien (The Great Melody [Sinclair: Stevenson, 1992]) argues that Burke's judgement of the French Revolution is decisively determined by the fact that he was an Irish Catholic. This psychological account of Burke fails to appreciate the many political reasons that abound in the Reflections. 7. Stephen Browne (Edmund Burke and the Discourse of Vmue [Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 1993]) argues that one must read Burke as one would read a drama or look at a portrait. Stephen White (Modernity, Politics, and Aesthetics [Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, 1994]) makes a similar argument, but I think he emphasizes the aesthetic aspect of Burke's politics at the expense of his political thought.

8. Burke's attempt to define a realm of political existence cannot but remind one of Aristotle. Despite their ultimate differences, they both criticize the attempt to understand politics through abstract and mathematical ideas. Burke's criticisms of the legislative science of the revolution are

Hippodamus' remarkably similar to Aristotle's criticisms of Plato's, Phaleas', and best regimes. Aristotle criticizes Plato for trying to make the city a unity, Phaleas for advocating equality of property, and Hippodamus for his ambition and simplicity. The faults of Hippodamus are the most important to both Aristotle and to Burke. Aristotle draws attention to the importance of Hippo damus by calling him the first political scientist, and by looking at the man, rather than his ideas only. Hippodamus was ambitious, adorned himself with expensive ornaments and long hair, wore cheap and warm clothes in both the winter and the summer, and wished to be learned in nature as a whole. Hippodamus did not dress according to the different seasons, but according to his fancy. In his ambitious desire to know nature as a whole, he failed to understand the unique nature of politics. 9. Edmund Burke, Reflections on the Revolution in France (Harmondsworth, Eng.: Penguin, 1984), pp. 282-83, cited within the text as Reflections. 10. In An Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs, Burke says that the genius of the Glorious Revolution was that it pretended to be legitimate according to the laws of the old regime. 11. Works, vol. 2, pp. 287-300, 382-84; vol. 3, pp. 164, 350-52. 12. Hippodamus models his regime on the number three. There are three classes of citizens, three sections of the city, and three kinds of legal suits. Hippodamus thought that his rulers would be popularly elected, and that all the classes (artisans, farmers, and the military) would be loyal to the city as a whole. But he did not give the artisans any property, and he made the military independent of the farmers by giving the army their own property. Furthermore, he denied the farmers and the artisans arms, therefore guaranteeing a military dictatorship. In looking to the number three for order, Hippodamus failed to understand the nature of political order. He knew nothing about the influence of force and interest. He was so far removed from political practice that he thought he was the first person ever to propose public assistance to the children of those who died in battle, even though it was a law in Athens and many other cities. Nor did Hippodamus know about the anything nature of authority. He thought that instead of voting innocent or guilty, jurors Burke's Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol 97

should be able vote to in shades of grey, according to their individual judgement, thus making an authoritative verdict impossible. He also proposed honors for those who improved the law, because he thought the law was like the arts, susceptible of infinite improvement. He failed to understand that the law is undermined by the habit of changing it, and that its authority depends on habits of obedience, not simply its evident usefulness. 13. Burke's emphasis on unsuspecting confidence, as opposed to natural rights, is taken from Montesquieu. In the Spirit of the Laws, trans. Nugent (New York: Hafner Press, 1949), p.77), Montesquieu argues that the opinion of one's own security is the end of the law. Like Burke, he opposed a universal understanding of justice, because he thought it made prudence impossible, and actually increased the harshness of tyranny where it threatened authority but could not overcome it. Reappraisal," Melissa S. Williams ("Burkean Descriptions and And Political Representation: A Canadian Journal of Political Science, March 1996) argues that Burke's understanding of virtual representation can still serve contemporary democracy by establishing confidence or trust between the ruling majority and those who have been traditionally excluded from government. 14. Works, vol. 1, pp. 348, 470; vol. 2, pp. 294-95, 331-33; vol. 6, p. 29. 15. Harvey Mansfield (Statesmanship and Party Government [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1965], p.224) argues that prescription supports popular prejudice and thereby corrects parti sanship. There is a very interesting and illuminating controversy between the natural law interpreta tions of Burke and the Straussian interpretation of Burke as a precursor to Hegel. Stanlis (Edmund Burke [New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers, 1991], p.237), Frohnen (Virtue and the Prom ise of Conservatism [Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 1993], pp.149-52), and Canavan (Ed mund Burke: Prescription and Providence [Durham: Carolina Academic Press, 1987], pp. 151-53) argue that Burke is a natural law theorist in the tradition of St. Thomas Aquinas. Canavan, in particular, takes issue with Strauss concerning Burke's understanding of providence. According to Leo Strauss (Natural Right and History [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1954), Burke's attempt to find a standard of legitimacy through providence solves one problem only to pose another. While Burke is able to anchor the British constitution, and political life in general, against abstract doctrine, he is vulnerable to the problems connected to his providential god. Strauss claims that Burke's understanding of prescription undermines the idea of noble defeat. Strauss has in mind the realm of thought, rather than action, for men of action are often, and even expected, to hope against all odds in the heat of battle. The problem is that Burke's idea of fate could lead to or encourage philistinism because it sanctions vulgar success and deprives the mind of a standard outside of the dominant. Canavan argues that for Burke natural law or natural right is an indepen dent principle that is used as a standard for political life.

16. Mansfield's analysis of the difference between presumptive and actual virtue helps to clar ify Burke's relation to political life (Harvey Mansfield, Edmund Burke [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984], pp.9-10). Presumptive virtue rests on presumptions about justice. When those presumptions are questioned, as in the case of the French Revolution, a person of actual virtue must defend the presumptions against dangerous theory. Thus, the man of actual virtue, who lives according to the actual, rather than the presumptive, uses his understanding to support men of political prudence and virtue. Works, vol. 1, pp. 406-7, 431, 432.

Interpreting the Twofold Presentation of the Will to Power Doctrine in Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Steven Berg Loyola University, New Orleans

Next to the things themselves the writings of the philosophers seem to pose

the greatest difficulties for interpretation. Within their works things are never what they seem and yet the only clue offered to the discovery of what is is what seems to be. A genuinely philosophical book might with some plausibility be compared to the golden bowl of Henry James's novel, the truth of whose con stitution is revealed only to those whose observation is keen enough to spot the fissure in what appears to be a flawless surface. It is through the disruption of the continuity of the apparent on the level of the apparent that we are invited to enter into a deeper world that is new and strange and that would otherwise be

sealed to us with seven seals (Beyond Good and Evil, 289). The peculiar char acter of philosophical writing led Nietzsche to give voice to the wish that readers of his books might be possessed of the philological equivalent of "the

do" gold smith's art ... which has nothing but delicate cautious work to and to interpretation" offer his gratitude in advance for some "subtlety of (Daybreak, Preface, 5; Beyond Good and Evil, 27) "deepest," The book that Nietzsche himself seems to have considered his Thus Spoke Zarathustra, is a work that dramatizes the attempt of a man to

themselves.1 interpret the things As readers of the book, therefore, we are called upon to interpret this drama. In our efforts to do so it is useful to begin with the

consideration that a drama is composed of two essential aspects, argument and action, and that in its composition these aspects are not merely parallel or complementary, but are inseparably joined. It is generally recognized that Zarathustra presents an argument according to which the essential core of all things is the will to power. It is somewhat less commonly observed that the presentation of this argument occurs in two waves. The first crests at the end of

Song," Part One and falls decisively in the "Night and the second rises from its Self-Overcoming" origin in "On to break with violence upon the shoals of the

Redemption" thought of the eternal return as it is developed first in "On and

Riddle" Convalescent." "The Vision and the and finally in "The In the first wave Zarathustra's unsuccessful attempt to transmit his teaching to his disciples forces him to reflect upon this teaching and to realize that, as it stands, it is incoherent. In the second, Zarathustra offers a revised teaching regarding the

wisest." will to power not to his disciples, but to those whom he calls "the In

interpretation, Fall 1998, Vol. 26, No. 1 100 Interpretation

test" "wisest," response to his invitation to "seriously this account, one of these a man called the Truthsayer, thinks through this revised version of Zarathustra's teaching further than Zarathustra has himself and reveals to him in a "proph

ecy" (Weissagung) the essential incoherence still nested at its core. The Truth- sayer's insights articulate the kernel of what comes to fruition in Zarathustra's

return.2 mind as the thought of the eternal This thought demonstrates to

Zarathustra in a final way the false character of his supposed wisdom which takes as its first principle the doctrine of the will to power. It, therefore, demon strates the false character of that doctrine as such and, accordingly, no mention

is made of it in Parts Three and Four of the work. Thus when Nietzsche's Zarathustra is read not simply as a collection of Zarathustrian utterances through which Nietzsche gives voice to his own opinions, but as a drama in which each speech may be understood only in the light of the deeds that sur round it and its necessary place within a sequential order of presentation, much of what passes for the core of Nietzsche's philosophy, e.g., the will to power doctrine, proves to be merely a superficial or partial aspect of his thought. Once its deeper levels are taken sight of, however, Nietzsche's philosophy looks less "post-modern" like the precursor of Heideggerian existentialism or deconstruc-

tionism and more like an attempt in the wake of German Idealism to return philosophy to its genuine core: Socratic or Platonic thought. Nowhere is this more apparent than in Thus Spoke Zarathustra: the book is nothing other than a portrait of a thinker's progress from self-proclaimed wise man or dogmatist to

sense.3 sceptical philosopher in the original Socratic

At the opening of the work it is made clear that Zarathustra not only takes himself to be wise, but as such to be more than human. Overburdened by its down" superfluity, he wishes to "go to men in order to distribute his wisdom

again." again," and thereby "become empty But this means "to be man since ignorance.4 man is defined by his lack of wisdom or his If Zarathustra is more than human, however, he is not a god: part of his wisdom is his knowledge that dead." "god is He is, therefore, the superman. Zarathustra will relinquish his superhuman status by going down to ignorant men and distributing his wisdom to them. This distribution, however, is directed to persuading man to go under so that the superman may live. Zarathustra relinquishes his superhuman status then only ultimately to renew or reconfirm it. If it is primarily the fact that he is wise rather than ignorant that accounts for his superhuman condition, then the

renewal of this condition would have to find its source in the confirmation of

his wisdom. It seems that Zarathustra will somehow attempt to confirm his

Prologue," wisdom through its distribution. As it is presented in "Zarathustra's

however, his first attempt to distribute his wisdom to men is an utter failure. Appealing directly to the multitude, he is met with incredulity, ridicule and hatred. to one According auditor of his speeches he is lucky to have escaped Prologue," with his life ("Zarathustra's 8). In the light of this failure Zarathustra

prudently eschews all further such direct appeals and fastens upon a novel strat- The Will to Power Doctrine in Zarathustra -101 egy: he will make a new beginning by transmitting his wisdom to a cadre of handpicked disciples who, acting in the light of its truth, will then turn their efforts to shaping humanity in such a way -as to prepare it to embrace Zara thustra's teaching and its final end, the life of the superman ("Zarathustra's Prologue," 9).

As the narrative unfolds and Zarathustra proceeds with his attempt to initiate his disciples into his teaching, the character of his alleged wisdom becomes apparent: he believes that he is in possession of a causal knowledge of "all being," including the being of his own knowing. The first principle of this wisdom is the will to power, since, according to Zarathustra's understanding, the will to power is the root cause of all things, including soul and mind. Zarathustra's argument for the truth of his first principle as genuinely first is presented in the speech that marks the beginning of his attempt to transmit his Afterworldsmen." wisdom to his disciples, "On the Here he reasons that if being is to be interpreted or understood it must be made to speak. But being, he insists, speaks to man only as man. The understanding and interpretation of being, therefore, require that one interpret the speeches of that one being among beings who speaks: man the speaking being or, in the Aristotelian phrase, the rational animal. Still, Zarathustra does not believe it possible to gain an immediate access to knowledge of being through examining the speeches of human beings, since those speeches are first and foremost concerned to articulate not what is being, but rather what is good and evil. In that speech of Part One in which he em

power" ploys the term "will to for the first time, "On the Thousand and One

Goals," Zarathustra makes the claim that the speeches about good and evil on

all men's lips are derived from the authoritative speeches of the laws of various peoples: Greeks, Persians, Jews and Germans all speak differently about good and evil because all follow and are formed by different laws. Since the speeches about good and evil are derived from the laws of the various political commu nities, all of them, despite their variety, agree in articulating an understanding of good and evil as identical to virtue and vice. That is to say, the good for man is understood by the law to be convertible with moral virtue. Behind the law, however, stands the legislator or, as Zarathustra calls him, the creator. It is the activity of the creator that brings the law into being and, according to Zara thustra, this activity is directed to sustaining and expanding the power of the people of which the legislator or creator is the founder. Thus whatever allows a

people to gain victory or power over itself, the people, in accordance with its holy," law, calls "praiseworthy, good and and whatever allows it to gain victory or power over its neighbors it calls "the high, the first, the measure and the

things." meaning of all What Zarathustra believes he has discovered through his examination of the speeches of the legislators or creators as embodied in their

various laws is that at the origin and the end of the activity of legislation or creation is the will to power. 102 Interpretation

We see that, according to Zarathustra, man the speaking being is necessarily linked to man the political being and that both aspects of man's humanity find their root in what he calls the will to power. That the political and the rational

aspects of human beings are necessarily related is, perhaps, an uncontroversial claim. Zarathustra seems to wish to establish not simply a link, but an identity between them, however, insofar as he takes the paradigmatically human speech to be the authoritative speeches of the law. The only thing that seems to fracture this identity is the variety of such speeches or the multiplicity of laws. Zarathustra himself has taken these laws and their multiplicity as the key to an understanding of the human and taken the human as the key to an understand ing of being and in the light of the potentially infinite number of particular peoples and laws has concluded that the human at its core, the will to power, is indefinitely plastic or infinitely malleable and that this is simply a reflection of beings.5 the essential being of all But then Zarathustra's own speech about the being of beings itself transcends the perspective of any particular law. It is this transcendence that marks his wisdom as more than human. The indefinite plurality of peoples and laws, as an expression of the indefi nite plasticity of the human, indicates, Zarathustra believes, that "humanity it self or in the proper sense does not in fact exist. Zarathustra, however, believes it possible to produce or create humanity itself on the level of the political through transforming his transcendent or superhuman wisdom into a novel and comprehensive moral law, a law that is, as it were, divine. The indefinite or unlimited plurality of peoples can be given definition if Zarathustra can some how impose a finitude upon this plurality and then bind this finite number of peoples together into a genuine whole by directing each and every one of them to a single overarching goal, the coming to be of the superman. To create humanity itself, then, is Zarathustra's great endeavor. It is with this end in view that he has descended from his mountain solitude to offer his teaching in the cities of men. That teaching, therefore, is at one and the same time the distribu tion of his wisdom and the promulgation of a new law, a law that is, as it were, a superlegislation directed to producing a determinate number of subordinate legislations or, in Zarathustra's own words, to creating creators. At the close of Part One, in his farewell speech to his disciples Zarathustra looks forward to the successful completion of this promulgation, to a future in which his friends, no longer disciples, but rather fellow creators, will have become the founders of

a finite number of novel peoples and will themselves form what Zarathustra

people" Virtue," calls "a new chosen ("On the Giving 2), standing above and

nations" ruling a humanity they have helped to fashion. This new "light to the will itself recognize Zarathustra as the source of its light and, therefore, first among its brotherhood of equals. As both the laws of his fellow creators and his own law of laws will be the first to have been constructed on the foundation of a full recognition of the truth of the law as rooted in the creative will or the will to power, their legislation will also be the first to have been articulated in the The Will to Power Doctrine in Zarathustra 103 light of the truth of being. It will be a legislation in perfect accord with the nature of things or, as it were, a natural law. Through it man the political animal and man the rational animal will have been seamlessly joined and the law and man's humanity made one. If he is successful in his endeavor, Zarathustra will, while bringing humanity itself into being for the first time, simultaneously confirm the truth of his wis dom and, therefore, the authenticity of his superhuman condition. That is to say, if he is indeed able to make another like himself or create creators, this will confirm his account of the core of all beings as will to power and as indefinitely plastic, and the perfection of his wisdom will coincide with its successful trans

mission or with the successful legislation of his law of laws. But since Zara thustra identifies the perfect possession of wisdom with happiness, by these Prologue," same means his happiness will have been secured ("Zarathustra's 1). He will have made his knowledge of being perfectly legal and made himself a blissful divinity who is at the same time a philosopher-king of kings. The horizon of his knowledge will have become coextensive with the horizon of the law. At this culminating moment of his career, Zarathustra will step from be hind his veil, reveal himself to a mankind prepared for his advent as the true divinity or the highest embodiment of the first principle of all things, and join with his fellow creators in celebrating the feast of this new epiphany or, as he Noon." calls it, "the Great At the moment of the Great Noon man will no longer stand between animal and god, but animal and superman, since mankind

dead" as a whole will recognize that "all gods are and that Zarathustra himself is the living and incarnate truth of the novel superhuman ideal ("On the Giving Virtue," 3). In acknowledging the transcendant superiority of Zarathustra man kind will at the same time acknowledge the justice of the new law he has laid down, a justice that is identical to a certain form of inequality, the legitimate rule of the superhuman creator over his human creatures. It almost goes without saying that Zarathustra fails in this endeavor. How he fails is the question. We can answer this question if we recall that Zarathustra's

effort to create another like himself is incumbent upon the successful transmis sion of his wisdom or teaching to his disciples. This teaching is engineered to produce within them the freedom of mind and will prerequisite to the activity of creation. But the freedom his disciples are obliged to achieve is comprehensive: it requires not only that they liberate themselves from their former prejudices or the understanding of good and evil instilled in their minds by the old law, but from Zarathustra's own teaching as teaching, as well. Accordingly, in the final speech of Part One Zarathustra offers as the last injunction of that teaching a

themselves" command to his disciples to reject it and "find in order that they may ultimately become his equals, friends and fellow creators ("On the Giving Virtue," 3). If Zarathustra's disciples are to fulfill this command to freedom it would seem that they must proceed in one of two ways: they may either reject his teaching while lacking a sufficient understanding of the truth of that teach- 104 Interpretation ing so that, on the basis of their own independent inquiries, they may appropri ate this truth for themselves; or they may reject it in full awareness of its truth. The latter, of course, appears to be absurd. Neverthless, it is precisely what Zarathustra demands of his disciples. This is made clear at the opening of Part Mirror" Two. In "The Child with the Zarathustra awakes from a nightmare in which a child holds up a mirror and asks him to look at himself within it. What devil."6 he sees there is the "mocking and grotesque mask of a Zarathustra interprets this dream as signifying that his teaching has been distorted by his enemies and consequently that his disciples have grown ashamed of their adher ence to it. This interpretation, however, wholly abstracts from the fact that the child of the dream expressly asks Zarathustra to look at himself: he wishes to reveal to Zarathustra not something about his teaching, but about himself as the author of that teaching. Nonetheless, on the basis of his inadequate understand ing of the dream, Zarathustra rushes down from his mountain retreat to rejoin his disciples and purify his teaching of what he takes to be the distortions practiced upon it by his foes. It is not enough then that his disciples reject his teaching in a distorted form or while lacking sufficient knowledge of its truth; they must reject it rather in full awareness of what it is they are rejecting. By the seventh speech of Part Two ("On the Tarantulas"), which marks the cul

"enemies," mination of a series of engagements with his Zarathustra seems to believe that he has at last sufficiently prepared his friends for this rejection. Consequently, he now bids them to become his enemies and suggests that from

another." henceforth they "divinely strive against one At the same moment, "Tarantula" however, the particular enemy he here confronts, the or "preacher

equality," of claims a victory over Zarathustra as he bites him and infects him with his venom. The venom of the Tarantula is his doctrine of justice as equal ity at the center of which, as Zarathustra has argued, lies the desire for revenge. This doctrine is, of course, opposed to Zarathustra's own doctrine of justice as inequality. What this incident suggests is that Zarathustra's attempt to make another like himself, to create his equals in the form of fellow creators, has at its core the same vengeful passion that Zarathustra identifies as the source of the teaching of the preachers of equality and that manifests itself in what he

sickness" madness," calls "the turning and "the tyrant in other words, that the teaching he believes to be a path to liberation will instead prove to pave the way to enslavement and self-enslavement. That Zarathustra is himself aware of the implications of his encounter with the Tarantula is made clear in the first of three songs which punctuate the close of the first half of Part Two, "The Night Song." In this song Zarathustra offers a portrait of his own activity of creation in its fulfillment which demonstrates that this activity must accomplish pre cisely the opposite of what it is supposed to effect: far from producing in his disciples a more than human freedom of mind and will, the distribution of his teaching will force them into an all too human bondage to its author. Song" "The Night is "the song of a lover": it expresses an intense desire The Will to Power Doctrine in Zarathustra 105

(Begierde) to give and receive love with perfect mutuality. It thus reveals that Zarathustra's effort to distribute his wisdom, and through such distribution cre ate another like himself, has as its motive not simply a desire to confirm his wisdom and thereby his superhuman condition, but moreover a longing to share this condition with another, that is, to establish a community of friendship and Song" love on a basis of perfect equality and reciprocity. When "The Night is Tarantulas" read in the light of "On the it becomes clear that Zarathustra's insistence upon absolute equality in love relations indicates that his longing for love has been infected with the desire for justice as understood by the preachers of equality and, therefore, that his understanding of the just political order is incoherent insofar as the essential character of its ruling peak would of neces sity violate its fundamental principle. Moreover, this ruling peak itself, the com munity of fellow creators and wise men, is incoherent in its own terms, and this is now apparent to Zarathustra, for he has come to perceive that the teaching he took to be the proper means to establish this perfectly reciprocal love must instead result in one of two equally unsatisfactory situations. On the one hand, his disciples may remain disciples and, therefore, prove incapable either of returning or even of properly receiving the gifts of his love. On the other hand, they may reject their dependent position as disciples and attempt to become autonomous creators in their own right, that is, they may transform themselves from friends into enemies of Zarathustra and, consequently, be able neither to

accept his love nor to offer love to him in return. That his disciples cannot but fail in their efforts to free themselves from Zarathustra's tutelage by becoming his enemies in pursuing their own independent activity of creation, however, is made clear through the following reflection. Creation, as Zarathustra under stands it, is perfectly self-sufficient self-legislation or setting up one's own will above oneself as one's only law ("On the Way of the Creator"). In order for Zarathustra's disciples to become fellow creators, therefore, they must liberate their wills from any dependency upon or subordinate status to the will of an other. Thus the truth of Zarathustra's teaching, which reveals Zarathustra to be

disciples' the legislator of his own supposed self-legislation, requires that they reject his teaching as an external determination upon their wills. If they are to become his equals in creation they must reject that teaching in full awareness of its truth. But precisely in such rejection they obey the final command of, and so adhere to and fulfill this teaching. In attempting to liberate their wills from all subordination to the will of another they subordinate themselves to the will of Zarathustra. And in creating while rejecting the true teaching of creation they are determined not by the truth of the will alone, but by the falsehood of their disciples' willful ignorance. Thus Zarathustra's attempts to achieve an equality with their master only serve to confirm their inferiority to him in terms of both knowledge and the freedom of the will. The distribution of his wisdom will

create not equals capable of properly receiving and returning his love, but infe

rior creatures of his will who will always fall short of his own perfection. It 106 Interpretation proves to be impossible for Zarathustra to create another like himself because it proves to be impossible either to command another to be free or to will a

love.7 perfectly reciprocal Consequently, Zarathustra's attempt to combine jus tice and love, rather than confirming his happiness or bliss, will produce in his relations to his recalcitrantly inferior disciples the sad passions of envy, spite, Song" and the desire for revenge within his soul. As "The Night predicts, Zarathustra's unsatisfied longing to receive the gifts of love will give way to an envy of those to whom he distributes such gifts and this envy in its turn to a spiteful desire to afflict them with the pain of the longing that he himself expe riences: he will take revenge upon them by withholding his gifts from them and thereby making them aware of their own poverty and dependence in relation to his superfluity. He will put them to shame. Having failed in his effort to unite self-sufficient freedom with friendship and justice with love he will succumb to a desire to punish his disciples for the inferiority and incapacity of which he is the cause. The dominant passion of the preachers of equality, the desire for punishment or revenge, will supplant the longing for love within his soul. Thus the perfection of Zarathustra's giving or creation proves to be at the same time its undoing. As he puts it in "The Night Song": "my happiness in giving died in

overflow." giving, my virtue grew tired of itself in its Through its distribution Zarathustra sought to confirm his wisdom. Yet that distribution proves to be impossible in its own terms. This impossibility thus demonstrates the incoherence of Zarathustra's wisdom. Given the fact that the distribution of his wisdom was to be identical with its promulgation as law, and considering that the starting point of that legislation is the will to power and its end the enjoyment of love, it seems to follow that central to the incoherence of Zarathustra's wisdom is his assumption that in its highest expression love is perfectly compatible with the moral law insofar as the former finds its source in and is ultimately identical to the self-legislating will. ("On the Giving Vir tue," 1).

Song" By "The Dance of Part Two Zarathustra has become aware of the false character of his wisdom. Consequently his speech is no longer charac terized by bombast and pedantry, but by self-mockery. In the song that he sings

girls" to accompany the dancing of a group of "lovely with "the little god Cupido," he portrays himself as the inept lover of two ladies by the names of Wisdom.8 Life and In this song he makes manifest his knowledge of his own ignorance by describing how he falls into perplexity when trying to fathom "thirsts" what he takes to be Life's boundless depths and, consequently, how he after the seductive and veiled figure of Lady Wisdom who persistently eludes his gaze and grasp. In an extended series of questions at the end of this speech he confesses that he no longer knows where he is or how to go forward; he is in a state of aporia. In order to articulate the structure of this aporia it is useful to review the progress of Zarathustra's thought in the following terms. Through his legislation and the transmission of his wisdom Zarathustra wished to pro- The Will to Power Doctrine in Zarathustra 107 vide a comprehensive solution to the human problem, that is, to secure the good or happiness for his fellows and himself. He understood that good to be coinci dent with the overcoming of human need on both the rational and the political levels: ignorance would be replaced by knowledge and all partial and transitory political orders by one that is comprehensive and final and that had as its ruling peak the loving community of creator-wise men. His understanding of the good as the overcoming of need thus divided into the beautiful as the perfectly recip rocal love of the wise for the wise and the just as the structure of an overarch ing and final political order. The rational good and the political good were to be made to coincide through the rale of the wise creator over his creatures. But Zarathustra's understanding came to ruin when he realized that friendship or love in the highest sense is incompatible with the justice of the political realm, or that love is incompatible with the self-legislating freedom of the will, and that, therefore, the rule of the creator over his creatures to the advantage of both

Song" is impossible. What Nietzsche suggests in "The Dance is that the inco herence of Zarathustra's wisdom points away from an understanding of the human good as the overcoming of need in wisdom and toward the awareness of need as knowledge of ignorance (cf. The Gay Science, 381). That is to say, the self-contradictory nature of Zarathustra's morally or legally determined under standing of the good points to the life devoted to the love and pursuit of wis

philosophy.9 dom in erotic community through speech: it points to In significant contrast to all of Nietzsche's other works, the word "philoso

phy" nowhere appears within the speeches of Zarathustra. Though in his por

trayal in a dialogue with his beloved Life of his unsatisfied thirst for and ongoing pursuit of Wisdom Zarathustra comes close to the discovery of philos ophy and, therefore, to the desirability of a life informed by the love and pur suit, rather than the possession of knowledge of the good, at this point in his career he misses the mark. He cannot sustain his newly won awareness of his own ignorance because he finds the perplexity into which he has been thrown Song," painful beyond endurance. As he reveals at the close of "The Dance he cannot understand his life to be worth living if he cannot believe himself to be wise, since, from the beginning, he has identified perfect happiness with the Song" perfect possession of wisdom. Accordingly, in "The Grave and the two speeches that follow he attempts to resolve his perplexity by jettisoning both his understanding of the political good, the just as final political order, and his understanding of the rational good, the beautiful as the loving community of the wise, and elaborating instead what he believes to be a new extramoral account of the beautiful, in which the just is included as false appearance, and the good. In doing so he considers himself to have stepped beyond the limitations of the political realm, that is, all human community established upon the basis of the false horizon of the law, and to have ascended to the naked truth of things. He now distinguishes sharply between man as political and man as rational and concludes that the only genuine good is a transpolitical good. Thus if in Part 108 Interpretation

One and the first half of Part Two Zarathustra attempted to enclose the sun of knowledge within the cave of his moral law, in the second half of Part Two he pretends to have liberated himself entirely from the cave of the law and to have ascended into the light of the sun of a knowledge that stands beyond good and evil in the moral sense. Zarathustra exchanges his refuted moral wisdom for what he understands to be a new amoral wisdom and thereby permits himself to persist in the belief that he is wise and, consequently, happy. Nevertheless, the fundamental principle of both his original and his revised teachings remains the doctrine of the will to power. He reaffirms the will to power as the first princi

Song." ple of both his life and his wisdom at the end of "The Grave

Song" "The Grave opens as Zarathustra retreats to the solitude of the Grave Island in order to lay a wreath upon the tomb of the lost loves of his youth. In the course of the lamentations he offers up over the silent graves of his "best dead," loved it becomes clear that behind Zarathustra's longing for a perfectly mutual love lay a nostalgic desire to recapture and perfect a species of love that he knew but all too briefly in the sunnier days of his youth, a love expressed in

minds" the playful intercourse of "blissful (seligen Geister). Zarathustra's la mentation, however, quickly devolves into an angry accusation as he pretends to discover the cause of the transience of his youthful love in the efforts of his

"enemies" to destroy him. Zarathustra's primary opponents, however, are those "rabble" whom the Tarantulas or preachers of equality serve: the or the great

"poisoned" majority of vulgar human beings. It is the rabble who have the fountain or well (Borne) of life for Zarathustra by bringing his youthful loves to a premature terminus ("On the Rabble"). In other words, it was the lingering presence of the low or the vulgar within the souls of those whom Zarathustra loved in his youth that brought the association between them to an end: he could not stomach the persistent presence of the low that he discovered even in the highest form of intercourse between human beings, and his revulsion before this link between the high and the low extinguished his love. As is his habit, however, Zarathustra blames his failures and difficulties not upon his own dis

"purity" "cleanliness" position, his longing for perfection and or (Reinheit [see Mountainside" "On the Tree on the and "On the Rabble"]), but upon vulgarity itself personified as a malevolent host assembled to oppose and thwart him in his endeavors. It seems then that the distribution of Zarathustra's wisdom was designed both to recapture the love that he experienced in his youth and to

"spiritual" overturn the political and dominance of the vulgar majority that he believes to be responsible for having polluted the fountain or well of his youth ful joy in and desire for life, that is, for having corrupted the souls of those he loved best by infecting them with the vulgar or base passions of, e.g., envy, spite, and the longing for revenge. His creation was supposed to guarantee both "eternity" the perfection and of his love. That is to say, the conditions of possi and his actual of bility enjoyment love were to be brought completely under the control of his will. The failure of the distribution of Zarathustra's wisdom to The Will to Power Doctrine in Zarathustra 109 effect this unification of love and will was made evident by the infection of his own soul with the passions of envy, spite, and the longing for revenge. His own disgust and indignation before the traces of the low that he detects in others

thus itself appear to be an expression of this same vulgarity. In fact it seems to

be this disgust and indignation that have led to the premature deaths of his youthful loves. Without himself being aware of it, Zarathustra is his own worst enemy.

It is only after he has whipped himself up into a paroxysm of indignation "murder" over the of his loves allegedly perpetrated by his foes that Zarathustra lets go of his perplexity and once again fastens upon the will to power doctrine as the means to his salvation and the foundation of his knowledge. In doing so he lays to rest his desire for love and resurrects the creative activity of the will as the highest good. The will to power doctrine, however, can continue to serve as the cornerstone of his wisdom only after having been extensively rein terpreted in the light of the collapse of his original understanding.

Song" In the speech immediately following "The Grave ("On Self-Overcom ing") Zarathustra articulates his revised version of the will to power doctrine. No longer addressing himself to his disciples, but to those whom he calls "you

wisest," he now embraces precisely the unlimited character of the will and the indefinite plurality of its creations that he originally sought to limit. As a conse quence, he also concludes that any particular teaching concerning good and evil or virtue and vice, as well as any particular teaching regarding the character of all being, must be relegated to the status of a limited and transitory and so false fabrication of the will to power. For the will, he now realizes, in expressing its infinite or unlimited character, must not only perpetually create, but perpetually destroy such self-created limitations upon its own activity. It is a protean mon ster that hides its essential indeterminacy in the ceaseless production of false and ephemeral appearances. Zarathustra thus replaces his dogmatic moral wis

dom with an amoral skeptical wisdom that nevertheless remains grounded in his

fundamental dogma of the will to power. He adopts a dogmatic skepticism. His skepticism extends to all supposedly final knowledge. One cannot but wonder whether this new skeptical teaching regarding the will to power does not impli cate itself in its own critique of all comprehensive accounts of being. Be that as it may, Zarathustra baptizes this revised understanding of the will to power with

"self-overcoming" the name and claims that in doing so he is merely echoing the words in which life itself revealed its secret to him: "I am that which must

again," overcome itself again and and, therefore, "whatever I create and how ever much I love it soon I have to oppose it and my love: thus my win will it." have Life, rooted in the infinite power of the will, manifests itself in an infinite becoming.10

At the end of this same speech Zarathustra offers his new extramoral ac

good." count of the good. The greatest good, he says is, "the creative It is identical to the creation of values as an ongoing activity or to the ever-renewed 110 Interpretation fabrication of transitory teachings of good and evil as virtue and vice. But the ceaseless creation of values requires the ceaseless destruction of values as its precondition. Accordingly, Zarathustra is now able to distinguish between a (false) moral understanding and a (true) extramoral understanding of good and evil. He argues that since the greatest good, the creation of values, necessarily entails the greatest evil, the destruction of values, it follows that the genuine understanding of the good as inseparable from evil is incompatible with the moral understanding of good and evil as identical to virtue and vice, for, from the false perspective of the moral law, virtue and vice are immiscible opposites. Zarathustra originally thought that he had, through the examination of the laws of the various peoples, ascended from the plurality of accounts of moral virtue to the one true morality. He now understands himself to have ascended from the plurality of moral virtues to the truth of the good as distinct from and the source of moral virtue and its plurality. It is, of course, his desire for happiness as he understands it, the possession of wisdom, that has compelled him to distinguish the good from moral virtue, which he has come to identify with the beautiful. If the creation of values requires the legislation of a morality, the false char acter of which is fully recognized by its creator, then Zarathustra must hence forth renounce any desire to enlighten the minds of his disciples and mankind as a whole through the transmission of his wisdom. Consequently, he no longer considers honesty to be the best policy and turns to concealment and prudential irony in the presentation of his thought: at the opening of his speech "On the

Sublime," sea" he describes himself as a "still whose riddling surface hides depths." "sublime" "impenetrable The infinite, or as he calls it there, character of the good, must veil itself in the false appearances of wholeness and com pleteness of the moral law or the beautiful. But the will's self-concealing cre "values," ation of beautiful moral ideals, or itself stands above the gloomy seriousness of those ideals. Zarathustra describes it as a form of artful play. As

Sublime," he puts it at the end of "On the behind the serious or heroic moral virtue of the superman as the paradigm of the highest life lies the secret playful

"superhero."" ness of what he now calls the Nietzsche himself appears to de scribe Zarathustra's new paradigm of the highest life in the Gay Science when speaks of of he "the ideal a mind who plays naively .. . with all that was divine" hitherto called holy, good untouchable, (The Gay Science, 382; Ecce Homo, "Thus Spake Zarathustra," 2).

If the will's creation of values as the greatest good is extra-moral in charac ter and those values themselves or the moral law a beautiful and concealing falsehood, it follows that the wise man must remain solitary in his activity, since the creation of values that liberates his will necessarily imprisons the minds and wills of those upon whom he imposes his creation. Thus Zarathustra now resigns himself to purchasing his self-sufficient freedom of mind and will at the expense of the enslavement of everyone else. And, in clinging to his wisdom and its first principle, the will and its freedom, as the highest good, he The Will to Power Doctrine in Zarathustra -111 renounces his longing for love or for genuine community with another like himself and denies that such love and community are a necessary condition of happiness.12 Yet if he has renounced his desire for living together in the highest sense with another human being, he still wishes to employ the promulgation of the admittedly false values he has created, his old moral teaching, as a means not only to realizing the freedom of his will, but ultimately to the generation, in some indefinite future, of another like himself. He will attempt to direct the political community, the realm of slavery and falsehood, to the end of reproduc ing the life that is free and informed by the truth. In other words, Zarathustra gives up on the men of the present and turns his attention to producing "chil dren." Education," As he proclaims in "On the Land of "now I love only my children's land, the undiscovered in the furthest sea: after it I call my sails to

seek." "children" seek and to He will produce his or reproduce his own activity in another through convincing the highest men within the political community of the truth of his false moral teaching. These men will then become the bearers of a new Zarathustrian tradition that will ultimately provide the conditions for the coming into being of a new creator; this second Zarathustra will penetrate the riddling surface of the regnant Zarathustrian teaching, think through, as Zarathustra himself has done, its fundamental incoherence, demolish it, as Zarathustra attempts to demolish the tradition he confronts, and create anew out of the rains he has engendered. Zarathustra, therefore, now wishes to use the

"procreation" beautiful as a means to ("On Immaculate Knowledge") or the reproduction of his own activity in the person of another. As in the case of sexual intercourse, the beautiful becomes a kind of rase through which the 206a- reproduction of the good is guaranteed (cf. Plato, Symposium 207a). The good, however, is now understood by Zarathustra to be ultimately detached from the intercourse of one human mind with another. It is identical to the radically self-sufficient knowledge and freedom of the will of the wise and solitary creator of values. "wisest" As we have already observed, one of the to whom Zarathustra of fers his revised account of the will to power responds to his invitation to "seri

test" "word," ously his as he calls it. He listens carefully to these speeches, interprets them with caution and subtlety, and, in doing so, comes to understand the implications of Zarathustra's new teaching better than Zarathustra does him self. Nietzsche indicates this fact by presenting the words of the Truthsayer in such a way as to lead the reader initially to infer that they are the words of Zarathustra ("The Truthsayer"). This fellow thinker is never given a proper

Truthsayer." name within the work, but is simply called "the What the Truth sayer comes to understand is that Zarathustra's attempt to transcend his initial understanding of the just political order by reducing the political realm to a mere means to the reproduction of his own activity in the person of another must of necessity fail. It will fail because each of Zarathustra's successors can not help creating on a lower level than his predecessor. The reason for this 112* Interpretation decline is as follows. It is only by thinking through the incoherence and impos sibility of Zarathustra's beautiful and false account of the best regime and its perfect justice that one may ascend direcdy beyond the falsehood of the politi cal realm to the peak of knowledge of the good. If Zarathustra's successor must destroy the Zarathustrian tradition in order to clear the way for the creation of his own, however, then even if he attains to Zarathustra's level in knowledge he cannot do so in his creation of values: he cannot found his own teaching on an account of the best regime that he has himself demolished. Consequently, his own new tradition must have at its core an account of the just political regime that is on a lower plane than that of Zarathustra. This second Zarathustra will be obliged to seal off the exit from the cave of the political realm and its false beliefs that Zarathustra's account of the best regime had opened up. The cre ation of Zarathustra's successor cannot, therefore, serve as a vehicle for the reproduction of his own activity: his own successor, Zarathustra the Third, as it were, will exist on a still lower level and not only in terms of creation, but in terms of knowledge as well. Thus, the self-overcoming that begins from the high point of Zarathustra's moral teaching, which has at its center his account in speech of the best political order or regime, must initiate a process of decline that will end in the realization in deed of what he considers to be the worst

"rabble."13 political order or regime: the rule of the It is the low point of this necessary process of decline that the prophecy of the Truthsayer predicts: a future in which those with the capacity to create will despair over the vanity of all efforts of creation and consequently succumb to the belief that "everything

was." is empty, everything is one, everything That is to say, the Truthsayer foresees that Zarathustra will engender not a second Zarathustra, but rather a

works" "harvested" climate in which "the best grow tired of their after having

fruit" swamps" "rotten and, therefore, in which "shallow predominate or the reins of political rule have been handed over to the ignorant multitude of vulgar

men.14

"prophecy" Zarathustra is laid low by the of the Truthsayer. During his col lapse he experiences a second nightmare in which he seems to draw the appro priate lessons from the Truthsayer's prophecy. In his dream Zarathustra has

become the "night-watchman and grave-watchman ... on the hill fortress of death." "overcome" He is the guardian of life that has been and that lies in coffins around him. In other words, in his dream Zarathustra sees that, just as the prophet had predicted, his own efforts at reproducing the life of the creator through the transmission of a Zarathustrian tradition must finally result in an enervation and paralysis of the will. Nevertheless, the conclusion of his dream appears to offer a suggestion as to how the difficulty that the Truthsayer has uncovered can be resolved: a black coffin appears in the gateway that is the entrance to this region of the dead, bursts open, and regurgitates an odd assort ment of images of resurrected life. The implication seems to be that, despite the difficulties that the Truthsayer has foreseen, the future continues in some way The Will to Power Doctrine in Zarathustra - 1 13 to hold out the promise of a reprisal or recapitulation of the high point of the activity of the will that Zarathustra's own creation represents. Zarathustra, therefore, recovers when he appears to fathom the full significance of his dream, namely, that the finite process of decline in the creations of the will that the Truthsayer predicts implies a similar finitude in regard to the kinds of politi cal regimes or that no matter how infinite the variety of particular peoples may be, all of them fall under one or another of a strictly limited number of possible regimes (see note 5). This insight is initially encouraging to Zarathustra be cause, when combined with his understanding of the will as self-overcoming, it seems to suggest that a finite process of decline in political orders must inevita bly be followed by an opposing process of renewal. If, then, the series of tradi tions and regimes were to follow in their decline and renewal a necessary and predictable circular course, Zarathustra need only will this repetition or recur rence in order to once again secure the self-sufficient activity of the will as the final cause of the becoming of the political community (cf. Machiavelli, Dis courses on Livy, 1.2). By willing the inevitable in this way he would reproduce his own superior existence as the highest good. Zarathustra traces this circular trajectory of the will's willing at the point in the discourse following "The Truthsayer" ("On Redemption") in which he speaks of his own teaching of the will as liberator and then follows this with an account of the decline of the will

"madness" from this height in several stages to the nadir of the will's in which it seeks to annul itself in willing not-willing. From this low point, however, we

creator" return once more to Zarathustra's own teaching that "the will is a or ascend to the height from which we began. The suggestion that Zarathustra makes immediately following this account that the will must learn to "will backwards" seems to refer, at least at this point, not to willing all of the past, but to willing this circular process of the ascent and decline of the will in its "sea" willing. Willing this circular recurrence is the in which Zarathustra be "drowned." lieves the difficulties of the Truthsayer will be He apparently shares his new insight with the Truthsayer at the dinner party to which he invites him immediately following his recovery. Much as we would like to know how the Truthsayer responds to Zarathustra's ostensible solution to the problem he has posed for him, Nietzsche does not afford us this pleasure. Whatever the Truthsayer may have had to say to Zarathustra at the meal they Riddle," shared, by the speech of Part Three entitled "On the Vision and the Zarathustra has come to realize that the apparent salvation of his revised ac count of the will to power as the highest good has been bought at the price of the perdition of his understanding of the will to power as infinite or unlimited in its creativity. The latter proposition was grounded in his analysis of the political things according to which the potentially infinite variety of peoples implied the corresponding infinitude of that which is the causal principle of those peoples, the will to power. Yet, if any one among the infinite number of peoples must of necessity fall under one of a finite number of kinds of regime, 114- Interpretation

then Zarathustra must reconsider his doctrine that at the core of all being is an unlimited power. Accordingly, he now concludes that the circular recurrence of finite regimes implies a circular recurrence on the cosmological scale or that a finite power at the core of all being must give rise to the eternal return of the

same. As he says in "On the Three Evils": "My . .. day-wisdom . mocks all

worlds.' 'infinite For my wisdom says: 'Where force (Kraft) is, there number force.' "" becomes master: it has more Zarathustra thus discovers that the politi cal problem has certain implications for cosmology or that the problem of jus tice and its relation to the beautiful and the good points to the problem of the

order of the whole. The truth about the whole that Zarathustra believes himself to have discovered, however, seems fundamentally to undermine his teaching concerning the freedom of the will, namely, that the will can achieve genuine liberation through acts of creation or by becoming a truly autonomous first cause: if the cosmological order is defined by a necessary recurrence of all things, then the will can never be a first cause and there can be no genuine creation or liberty in this sense. Zarathustra's own gloom over this insight is

Riddle" "dwarf" represented in "On the Vision and the by the voice of the or heaviness" the "mind of who mocks him, saying, "O Zarathustra . . . you stone of wisdom! You have thrown yourself high, but every stone that is thrown fall!" must Accordingly, when Zarathustra asks him whether the paths of the past and future that stretch out in contrary directions from the gateway of the "contradict" moment one another eternally, the dwarf replies with the cos mological and necessitarian version of the thought of the eternal return: "all

circle." truth is crooked, time itself is a Zarathustra, however, sees that the recurrence of the past and the future implies the recurrence of the moment in which the eternal return is known and, therefore, in which it may be willed. In a last-ditch attempt to salvage the freedom of the will that he understands to be the highest good, he therefore makes a virtue out of necessity by willing the eternal recurrence of all things. In this way the will becomes, as it were, the first cause of the whole of things and so the first cause of its own willing: it wills its own will or becomes self-caused. Thus, according to Zarathustra's current understanding, his attempt to employ the becoming of the political community in the reproduction of the highest good requires that he will not only the circular repetition of political regimes, but the eternal recurrence of all things, since if he cannot will the past in such a way as to reproduce it in the future as his own creation, then he must submit to being merely a dependent or secondary cause within the nexus of causes deter mining the necessity of recurrence. By willing the recurrence of all things, the will to power as highest good transforms itself into the causal principle of a cosmological whole that appears to be both beautiful in its wholeness and just in the relations of its parts insofar as the rule of the best prevails within it. That there are problems lurking within Zarathustra's apparent solution to the riddle presented by the eternal return of the same is made clear at the end of The Will to Power Doctrine in Zarathustra -115

Riddle" "On the Vision and the where Zarathustra sees a vision of a shepherd

snake" choking upon a "heavy black that has crawled into his throat and there bit itself fast. Zarathustra's advice to the shepherd is to bite off the snake's head and spit it far away. When the shepherd does this he rises up laughing and is

man." "parable" "no longer shepherd, no longer Zarathustra calls this vision a

"foreseeing" day?" and a and asks "who it is that must come one In "The

Convalescent" it is made clear that the shepherd represents Zarathustra himself insofar as he is a ruler and legislator and that, despite the rosy picture that his animals paint of it, the thought of the eternal recurrence of all things is the

"snake" "monster" or, as Zarathustra now describes it, the that has crawled into his throat. This thought proves monstrous and nauseating to Zarathustra when he realizes that the political and cosmological rule of the best or his willing the eternal recurrence of all things means willing not only the reproduction of the will's own goodness or superior activity in the person of another, but the per petual recurrence of the bad in the form of the lowest and smallest sort of human life, the life of the rabble. The presence of the low not only persists in, but is in effect the result of what he takes to be the highest human activity, the

creative freedom of the will at its peak. Thus Zarathustra explains that "the

throat." great disgust at man .. . choked me and crept into my That "the small

existence." man recurs eternally . . . that was my disgust at all Moreover, he

creation" realizes that the will's "free of all things in willing the eternal return would be indistinguishable from a thoroughgoing determinism or the universal dominion of necessity: as the Truthsayer prophesied, all would be one, nothing

choke.16 would be profitable, and knowledge would Thus, the thought of the eternal return elaborates precisely what would be required for the will to attain to a pure and perfectly self-sufficient activity and shows, paradoxically, that this would necessarily entail the impure community of the highest with the lowest and the complete passivity of the will in submitting to a blind and inalterable "fate."17 In the thought of the eternal return the doctrine of the will to power as the first and final cause of all knowing and all being is decisively refuted by "destiny" Zarathustra himself. Though his animals insist that his is to become

the teacher of the eternal return, Zarathustra never does promulgate this doc "spit" "monster" trine and in fact describes himself as having this far away it.18 from him, that is, as having repudiated He does so because he has come to understand that the same problem that he encountered in his attempt to trans

form his disciples into fellow creators is embodied in his attempt to reproduce the autonomous activity of his will: the path to absolute freedom of the will proves to be identical with the path to its thoroughgoing self-enslavement. It is,

sickness""tyrant-madness" therefore, the "turning or of the low passion of revenge that lies behind the incoherent and unfulfillable desire for "freedom of

sense" the will in the metaphysical superlative (Beyond Good and Evil, 21). At the bottom of Zarathustra's attempt to bring all things under the sway of his will lies the same passion that animates the efforts of the preachers of equality 116 Interpretation

to bring all things under the sway of the rabble. Far from having escaped the political realm, its law and its justice, Zarathustra's revised version of the will to power doctrine is simply an expression of the most fundamental political

passion. The self-refutation of Zarathustra's doctrine of the will to power in the

thought of the eternal return of the same thus proves to be the refutation of the

fundamental premise of that philosophical school that finds its origin and inspi ration in Kant, namely, that the will is the primary phenomenon and its freedom being." the core of what it is to be a human Nietzsche's demonstration of the

Idealism" incoherent foundations of "German is in the service of a recovery of philosophy in its original and primary Platonic and Socratic sense, however. In other words, Nietzsche's political presentation of the life of philosophy in the figure of his Zarathustra is ultimately directed to showing that the principle of "justice" "freedom," the political realm, the will and its desire for and i.e., revenge, is in the deepest tension with the principle of the life of philosophy.

"purification" That the drama of Zarathustra is ultimately devoted to such a of philosophy can be seen by reviewing its overall trajectory. The three parts of Zarathustra as it was published under Nietzsche's author ity may be characterized as follows. In Part One Zarathustra attempts to found a political order that is truly just by structuring it in accordance with the true principle of all being. In doing so he unfolds an account of being or an ontol ogy in which the highest good and the beautiful are one and the same. In Part Two he attempts to employ the becoming of the political community, the char acter of which he takes to be essentially indeterminate or fluid, as a means through which to realize the highest good, a good that lies beyond the justice of the political community and its moral law. In doing so he offers a teleological account of becoming in which the beautiful and the good are fundamentally distinct. Finally, in Part Three, wherein the thought of the eternal return is developed, Zarathustra's understanding of the starting point and end of the po litical realm is shown to imply a complementary cosmology or an account of the being of becoming according to which the whole of things is rooted in the will to power as both its efficient and its final cause. The self-contradictory character of the thought of the eternal return, which is the image of a cosmos grounded in this double causality of the will, shows such a cosmos to be impos "rational" sible, however. Therefore it shows both that a cosmological order, of which a complete causal account could be given, is not in accord with reason, but is rather a projection of the political onto the natural realm, and that genu ine knowing and freedom of mind are incompatible with the absolute freedom

will.20 "wisdom," of the Through the refutation of his Zarathustra discovers that the primary source of his own thinking is not the will to power and its inten tional constructions directed to the overcoming of need, but, on the one hand, love as the awareness of the goodness of need and the desire (Lust) for eternity

chance.21 and, on the other hand, In other words, he discovers that the presence

of philosophy in the midst of things is a good that cannot be made to fit within The Will to Power Doctrine in Zarathustra -117 a beautiful whole of justly ordered parts, but that nevertheless conveys a good ness to the totality of things which would be absent from such a perfect whole. This discovery is made possible not only by Zarathustra's examination of the human or political things, but by his community in speech and thought with the Truthsayer, a community based not upon the mutual possession, but the mutual pursuit of wisdom. The Truthsayer is obviously neither a disciple of Zarathustra's teaching nor a creature of his will. He is simply the most thought ful man that Zarathustra has chanced upon in his wanderings. As such he is the

friend.22 closest thing that he has to a

NOTES

1. See Letter to Karl Knortz of June 21, 1888; also see Ecce Homo, Preface, 4. 2. That the speeches of the Truthsayer are behind Zarathustra's thought of the eternal return is

Convalescent." made clear in "On the 3. That Zarathustra is to be read with Plato and his Socrates in mind is made clear in the very first lines of the book in which the famous images of the cave and the sun from Plato's Republic are conspicuously employed. 4. Zarathustra later specifies the ignorance of human beings as believing they know what is Virtue" Tables." good and evil when they do not. See "On the Chairs of and "On the Old and New Cf. Beyond Good and Evil, 202. 5. Zarathustra arrives at this conclusion on the basis of insufficient evidence: though it may well be the case that the number of particular peoples and their particular laws is potentially infinite, it is nevertheless also the case that these particular peoples and laws all fall under a strictly limited number of kinds or species of regime. In neglecting to perform an analysis of the various kinds of regimes, Zarathustra has rooted his understanding of man, and therefore of being, in that aspect of the political community that is recalcitrantly irrational. In Part Three, Zarathustra, after having covered quite a bit of ground in his thinking, belatedly offers something like an analysis of the most fundamental kinds of regime: rule of the one ("despotism"), rule of the few ("nobility") Tablets,'' and rule of the many ("mob-rule"): "On Old and New 11. "devil" heaviness" 6. Zarathustra's is the "mind of ("On Reading and Writing"). Behind the

revenge" mind of heaviness, however, is "the mind of ("On Redemption"). 7. Zarathustra's attempt to command his disciples to free themselves from their belief in his

Jesus' teaching is the negative reflection of attempt to command his disciples to love one another and himself on the basis of their belief in his teaching and his divinity. 8. One of the most striking signs of Zarathustra's transformation is his temporarily abandoning

dead" advocate." his doctrine that "god is for a declaration that he is "god's The god in question turns out to be Cupido or Eros. 9. Of course, if the refutation of Zarathustra's claim to wisdom points to philosophy as the human good, it also points to the partial obstruction that the political community and its justice pose to the acquisition of that good. It points to the distinction between the necessary and the good. Cf. Socrates' Seth Benardete, Second Sailing (Chicago: University of Chicago Press), p. 153. 10. Zarathustra's claim to have fathomed Life's depths stands in stark contrast to the portrait he

Song" painted of himself in "The Dance as the ignorant lover of Life and Wisdom.

"wisdom" 11. Through the twofold presentation of Zarathustra's Nietzsche appears to offer a twofold parody of philosophy. On the simplest level, this parody may be characterized as follows. "wisdom," In the original dogmatic and legislative version of Zarathustra's Nietzsche parodies philosophical writing and its artful completeness or finitude. In its revised sceptical and extramoral version he parodies the incompleteness and infinitude of philosophical inquiry as the pursuit of "the fundamental (Beyond Good and Evil, 23). He speaks explicitly of Zarathustra as a 118 Interpretation

parody in the preface to The Gay Science, where he makes reference to the last aphorism of the original edition of the latter work, an aphorism virtually identical to the opening of Zarathustra:

tragoedia' "'Incipit it says at the end of this doubtful-undoubting book take caution! Something paradigmatically bad and mischievous declares itself: incipit parodia There is no doubt. Heidegger's understanding of Nietzsche's philosophy as essentially tragic in character measures the depth of his misunderstanding. See his Nietzsche, Vol. II, The Eternal Recurrence of the Same, trans. David Farrell Krell (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 28-31. His odd lack of a sense for the comic made it impossible for him to give an adequate interpretation of Nietzsche's thought. One wonders whether it did not stand in the way of his understanding the thought of certain other philosophers as well.

Wanderer' Will." 12. See "The and "On Blessedness Against the This renunciation is the im

Poets,'' port of Zarathustra's three headshakes before his disciples in Part Two: see "On the "On

Events," Truthsayer." Great and "The This thrice-reiterated renunciation is the negative reflection of Peter's thrice-repeated renunciation of Jesus immediately before his death. 13. What the preceding argument seems to show is that a solution to this problem of reproduc tion cannot be found on the level of political legislation, but only on that of philosophical writing. Nietzsche's publication of Thus Spoke Zarathustra represents his attempt at such a solution.

Truthsayer." 14. "The The Truthsayer has simply drawn these conclusions from Zarathustra's Self-Overcoming." speech "On There Zarathustra indicated that although moralistic human beings

goal" higher," may believe all willing to be directed to procreation or "a or "something Life's amoral secret is a self-overcoming lacking any final end the direction of which can just as well be down as up: "The weaker steals. . . into the castle and even the heart of the more powerful and

power." swamps" steals the That the Truthsayer's reference to "shallow is meant to indicate the rule

Tablets," of the mob is made clear in "On Old and New 1 1.

15. Zarathustra seems to discover that the protean transformations of the will to power are limited in number or that they fall within a determinate number of kinds. Cf. Homer, Odyssey, IV, Matter." 360-425 and Bacon, The Wisdom of the Ancients, XIII, "Proteus, or Zarathustra," 16. In his "Irony and Affirmation in Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Robert Pippin de scribes this self-refutative aspect of Zarathustra's thought of the eternal return with some clarity: see Nietzsche's New Seas, ed. Michael Gillespie and Tracy Strong (Chicago: University of Chicago "historicist" Press, 1988), pp. 53-54. Unfortunately, he then goes on to offer a interpretation of what Zarathustra concludes from this self-refutation that is not in accordance with Nietzsche's philosophical intention, namely, to uncover that which is unchanging in the nature of things or "the fundamental problems": see Beyond Good and Evil, 23. The fundamental problem that the incom patible combination of freedom and necessity in the thought of the eternal return points to is that of the relation between the political community and philosophy: the political community, the realm of ignorance and falsehood, turns out to be a necessary precondition for the life that is preeminently free because it is devoted to the pursuit of truth. As Nietzsche's Zarathustra makes clear, the philosopher's pursuit of the truth must include an examination of the false appearances of the political realm.

17. In the words of Karl Lowith, it would require "something double, divided and self-contra dictory: I myself cause for all eternity the fatality of all existence and its eternal return and: I

world" myself am only one conditioned fatality in all the circling of the natural (Nietzsches Philoso phie der Ewigen Wiederkunft des Gleichen [Berlin: Kohlhammer, 1935], p. 197). Zarathustra's second attempt to articulate an understanding of the good in terms of the overcoming of need, his revised wisdom in which the freedom of the mind and the unconditional freedom and self-suffi ciency of the will were to be perfectly combined, reproduces at its peak the contradiction that

Jesus' stands at the center of the traditional morality he had hoped decisively to transcend: man-god as in with is, man, community the lowest of the low and submits to suffering the greatest of passions and, as god, is the perfectly active and self-sufficient creator of the whole of being from out of the infinite power of his will. It should come as no surprise, therefore, that Nietzsche places the one aphorism in Beyond Good and Evil dedicated to an elaboration of the thought of the eternal

essence." return in the context of the third part of that work, the topic of which is "the religious This fifty-sixth aphorism concludes by suggesting that the thought of the eternal return would be circulus vitiosus deus a vicious circle as god. The Will to Power Doctrine in Zarathustra 119

18. Maudemarie Clark is one of the few commentators on Nietzsche's work who clearly per ceives the problematic character of the doctrine of the will to power: see Nietzsche on Truth and Philosophy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), pp. 213-27. Unfortunately, she chooses to treat Nietzsche's arguments for that doctrine in abstraction from the contexts of the works in which they are found and, therefore, from the complex motion of the larger argument that each work in its entirety unfolds. This leads her to attribute to Nietzsche an attitude that cannot be squared with his own insistence that he is, above all, a philosopher and that philosophy is, by "convictions" ("Antichrist," definition, sceptical in character and so free of all attachment to moral 54): Clark insists that Nietzsche asserts the cosmological teaching of the will to power, despite his recognition that there are no good arguments to support it, on account of his commitment to a particular set of moral values or convictions (see Clark, p. 227). She comes closer to the truth in her treatment of Nietzsche's differing presentations of the thought of the eternal return (see Clark, p. 264). If both Zarathustra and, therefore, Nietzsche himself ultimately repudiate the doctrines of the will to power and the eternal return, however, one can legitimately ask why it is that Nietzsche wishes to appear in the guise of a teacher and promoter of these doctrines. One can answer this question by observing that according to his own testimony Nietzsche was the practitioner of an art of esoteric writing (see Beyond Good and Evil, 27, 29, 30, 40, 283-85, 289, and The Gay Science, 381) that is directed to (a) overtly appealing to while at the same time covertly undermining the "philosophical" dominant prejudices of his time, (b) proffering a morality while simultaneously demonstrating that the genuine life of philosophy is in the deepest tension with the moral law, and (c) providing the proto-philosophical reader with a propaedeutic teaching that both seduces him to the pursuit of philosophy and points the way to the transcendence of that teaching in the direction of philosophy in the proper sense. Within Thus Spoke Zarathustra the animals of Zarathustra are the fitting spokesmen for the doctrine of the eternal return in that the eagle and the serpent represent Zarathustra's pride and his prudence, and the prideful account of the thinker as endued with a godlike responsibility for the whole of things turns out to be a concealing surface adopted by Nietzsche according to the dictates of prudence in the presentation of his thought. 19. "Kant too had been bitten by the moral tarantula Rousseau, he too harboured in the depths of his soul the idea of that moral fanaticism whose executor another disciple of Rousseau felt and confessed himself to be, namely, Robespierre, 'de fonder sur la terre l'empire de la sagesse,

vertu' de la justice et de la (Speech of 7 June, 1794)": Daybreak, Preface, 3. 20. That Nietzsche understands the incoherence of Zarathustra's attempt to will the eternal return of all things to be a demonstration of the impossibility of a complete causal account of the whole of things is grounded in his understanding of the general character of causal accounts: they are all founded upon the belief in the causality of the will: see Beyond Good and Evil, 36 and 87. 21. "All eternal desire longs for the ill-constituted. For all desire wants itself: "The Drunken

Song," Song," Eternity," 11. See also "The Other Dancing 3; Dithyrambs of Dionysus, "Fame and Sunrise." Socrates' 4; and "Before Cf. Seth Benardete, Second Sailing, pp. 152 and 192.

Convalescent" 22. In "On the Zarathustra characterizes community in speech and thought in the following terms. "Where chattering is there the world lies before me like a garden. How lovely it is that words and sounds exist: are words and sounds not rainbows and bridges of appearance (Schein) between the eternally divided. To every soul belongs another world; for every soul every other soul is an afterworld. Between the most alike appearance (Schein) lies most beautifully; for the smallest bridge.'' gap is the most difficult to Within the wholeness of this community Zarathustra seems finally to discover the truth of the beautiful and within the genuineness of its community the truth of the just. Having bumped into Zarathustra by chance, the Truthsayer proves to be very persistent in his attachment to him: he simply will not leave Zarathustra alone. In Part Four of the work he reap Need," pears in "The Cry of in which he and Zarathustra have become so close as to be able to guess each other's thoughts merely by looking into each other's faces. This closeness is confirmed when Zarathustra declares to the Truthsayer that "whatever in my cave belongs to me also belongs Supper," to you."We last hear from the Truthsayer in "The Last where he reminds Zarathustra of on a meal before in speeches. necessity in the form of bodily need: he insists indulging

Review Essays

Heidegger, the Polity, and National Socialism

Frank Schalow

University of New Orleans

John D. Caputo, Demythologizing Heidegger (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1993), xi + 234 pp., $15.95 paper. Berel Lang, Heidegger's Silence (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1996), xii + 129 pp., $19.95. Tom Rockmore, Heidegger's Philosophy and Nazism (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992), xi + 382 pp., $47.50 Hans Sluga, Heidegger's Crisis: Philosophy and Politics in Nazi Germany (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1993), x + 285 pp., $33.50 cloth, $15.50 paper. Leslie Paul Thiele, Timely Meditations: Martin Heidegger and Postmodern Pol itics (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995), xii + 263 pp., $49.50 cloth, $14.95 paper. Julian Young, Heidegger, Philosophy, and Nazism (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni versity Press, 1997), xv + 232 pp., $49.95. Michael E. Zimmerman, Heidegger's Confrontation with Modernity: Technol ogy, Politics, Art (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1990), xxvii + 306 pp., $19.95 paper.

Since Victor Farias published his book detailing Heidegger's involvement in National Socialism (1987), a wave of books have appeared which develop this theme. One might expect that this trend of Heidegger criticism would produce such dark revelations about his fascist tendencies as to dampen all enthusiasm for his thought. Yet these works have had the reverse effect of stimulating new "apologetics," interest in his philosophy, even to the point of spawning if not for his actions at least for his philosophical vision. Indeed, as this century comes to a close, perhaps the greatest thinker of his time has never received greater notoriety. Precisely for this reason the need for balanced criticism of Heidegger's thought has never been more urgent. In this essay, I will develop such an approach by examining a wide spectrum of books which seek to un-

interpretation, Fall 1998, Vol. 26, No. 1 122 Interpretation cover the truth about his fascist ties. In the process, I will point to a theme which remains dormant throughout the majority of those analyses, namely, the interconnection between Heidegger's concept of freedom and the example of his politics. We can appreciate a thinker's politics only by considering his or her corol lary treatment of freedom, even when the scope of that freedom remains un clear. When scholars analyze Heidegger's philosophy, however, they often subordinate their explication of his concept of freedom to a conclusion already drawn about his politics. In order to discern this tendency, we must examine the different interpretive strategies which scholars employ to outline the place of the polity in Heidegger's thought. Among the various books addressing Heideg ger's Nazism and politics, we must first consider those which explore the ten sion between his innovative development of ontology and his reactionary political views. One such outstanding example, which follows on the heels of Farias' attempt to re-examine Heidegger's involvement in National Socialism, is Michael Zimmerman's Heidegger's Confrontation with Modernity. From this

"immanent" spirit of an criticism of Heidegger arises a more radical ex amination of his presuppositions, which is exemplified in John Caputo's Demythologizing Heidegger. Unlike Zimmerman, Caputo develops "decon-

structive" strategies as practiced by the luminaries of postmodernity, including Levinas, Lyotard, and Derrida, to expose Heidegger's thought to the criticisms

"Teutonic-Hellenism" of those traditions which his brand of excludes, e.g., Ju- daeo-Christianity. As we will discover, Caputo's work forms an important bridge between those scholars who sit on the Heideggerian fence and those who reject his philosophy because of his politics. Although Farias champions this position, a more recent example within the English-speaking world comes from Tom Rockmore's Heidegger's Philosophy and Nazism. Rockmore implements a method of criticism, which Hans Sluga also exemplifies in Heidegger's Crisis, that may be described as "sociological- historical." This fact-gathering enterprise is crucial in order to support the con clusions, for example, that Heidegger embraced National Socialism and never recanted its ideology, that he exhibited antisemitic tendencies, and that his silence about the horrors of Auschwitz provides implicit evidence of his contin ual allegiance to National Socialism. Given this historical archaeology, we can evaluate different ways of making inferences from Heidegger the man-politician to Heidegger the intellectual-thinker and vice versa. Not surprisingly, several books paint the darkest implications of Heideggerian politics. Among these books is Richard Wolin's The Politics of Being, along with the literature detail ing the atrocities of the Holocaust, including Berel Lang's Heidegger's Silence. Wherever the criticism of Heidegger becomes most severe, attempts to rein terpret his thought in ways more compatible with our democratic vision become

"analytic" inevitable. One such example, which implements an method to refute point by point the damning evidence his critics gather against him, is Julian Heidegger, the Polity, and National Socialism 123

Young's Heidegger, Philosophy, Nazism. We must also include Leslie Paul Thiele's Timely Meditations. This work stands apart by reinterpreting the key motifs of Heidegger's thought in order to outline a politics which undercuts the Nazi ideology he initially embraces.

II.

Farias' Even prior to book, most proponents of Heidegger's thought had been aware of his brief flirtation with National Socialism when he became rector of the University of Freiburg in 1933 and supported Hitler's rise to

story" power. Yet the overall "official has been to separate Heidegger the phi losopher from Heidegger the politician, thereby creating a buffer between the brilliance of his ontological insights and whatever myopia he may have shown Farias' in his political judgment. The effect of revelations, however, was to tear away this buffer and foreclose the all too convenient option of insulating Heidegger's thought from the catastrophic historical events surrounding his life Farias' in Germany. As poignant as revelations were, they would not have had the impact they did upon many Anglo-American scholars if a transition were not already under way to engage Heidegger's thought with an area of philoso phy he seemingly ignored: namely, ethics. If the inquiry into being is to have its root in the historical situation of human beings, then any such investigation must speak to those ethical dilemmas which distinguish perhaps the most turbu

lent period in world history. As Zimmerman, Caputo, and Charles Scott began to recognize in the 1980's, it is just as necessary to approach Heidegger's thought as an occasion to question the possibility of ethics as to present his philosophy as an esoteric narrative on the meaning of being. This shift in the Farias' emphasis on Heidegger scholarship not only parallels work, but, indeed, provides the climate for hearing the troubling allegations which he raises. If concrete praxis orients the question of being, then practical concerns, e.g., of ethics and politics, must help to shape the landscape of ontological inquiry. While this correlation may have been slow in capturing the interest of many scholars, its importance had already been etched in Heidegger's thought with the publication of his magnum opus, Being and Time (1927). In this work, he emphasizes that a thinker can engage in ontological inquiry only by participat ing in being's disclosure; hence, philosophy originates from the concrete situa tion in which the inquirer places him- or herself in question and owns up to his or her unique existence as a finite self. The thinker's commitment to authentic existence fosters the openness of philosophical inquiry. Given this reciprocity between thought and existence, it appears hypocritical to suggest that philoso phy can secure a sanctuary for truth apart from its exemplification in the realm of human action. As Herbert Marcuse argues in a famous letter to his teacher: 124 Interpretation

philosopher and the human '. .. we cannot make the distinction between the being Martin Heidegger it contradicts your own philosophy. A philosopher can be mistaken about politics then he will openly admit his error. But he cannot be mistaken about a regime that murdered millions of Jews merely because they were Jews, that made terror part of everyday life and turned everything that ever was

opposite.' really tied to the concept of spirit and freedom and truth into its bloody (Quoted in Kettering and Neske, pp. xxiii-ix)

In Heidegger's Confrontation with Modernity, Michael Zimmerman em braces this statement as the leitmotif for his discussion. Thus the question he asks is not simply whether Heidegger had Nazi ties, but instead how and why his thinking became juxtaposed with such a destructive ideology. That is, what were the set of variables which shaped Heidegger's interest in National Social ism and seduced him into the misunderstanding that Nazi ideology could ex press the political implications of his thought? To answer this question,

Zimmerman considers the interface between the intellectual Zeitgeist in Ger

West" many from Spengler's emphasis on the "decline of the to Jiinger's concern for the worker's encounter with the global forces of industrialization and Heidegger's interpretation of the crisis of Western history as a descent into nihilism, the forgetting of being, and the end of metaphysics. The inquiry by which he can address all of these issues simultaneously and distinguish their

technology." unique configuration, of course, is "the question concerning As

"enframing," the process of technology exerts control and domination over all aspects of nature, granting humanity the power to impose its will on the diver sity of being's manifestation. One can debate the sociological factors which surround Heidegger's involve ment in National Socialism, but the most basic consideration of all remains the problem of technology. Because of its global destructive power, technology solicits from us equally radical responses in social organization in order that we can combat this potential for destruction. As Zimmerman emphasizes, Heideg ger saw both Western capitalism and communism as instruments of technology,

and hence turned to National Socialism as the political movement which sum mons human beings to face this epochal challenge. The audacity of the politi

cians' decision became the corollary to the philosopher's attempt at original thinking. "Heidegger claimed that only authentic thinking and poetry could 'thinking,' save Germany in its hour of crisis. By he did not mean rational calculation, but instead the mode of comportment which opened one up to the

things," awesome and dreadful presencing of including its darkness and horror (p. 84). On the surface, the need to develop a new politics to face the crisis of our day, let alone the turmoil of Germany in the 1930's, is not far fetched. Yet Heidegger went astray by underestimating how political leaders could be sub verted by the powers of technology which they seek to harness, i.e., spearhead ing violence and mass destruction themselves. As Zimmerman states: Heidegger, the Polity, and National Socialism 125

'unrestrained' 'dark' Unfortunately, what the Nazis meant by the and was not the being of entities, but instead blood and instinct, frenzy and violence, domination of humanity and nature. As reactionary modernists, the Nazis united instinct with technology in a way which led to unparalleled devastation. (P. 84)

In the end, Heidegger may succumb to a kind of hubris in believing that the flawed realm of politics could ever yield a leader with the kind of world-histori cal vision to match technology's global reach. Yet it is one thing to accuse a person of hubris and quite another to trace its origin. According to Zimmerman, Heidegger's hero combines a nostalgia for the Greek origins with a grandiose

"destiny" sense of (Geschick) as reflected in Schelling's thought.

The self-mythifying Heidegger believed that he had been destined to proclaim the saving vision of his hero, Holderlin, and that he himself was thus the world- historical figure who would transform the fate of the West. Consider Heidegger's

'destiny' [emphasis on] the linking him with Holderlin. .. The grandson of the man born in a manger in Holderlin's beloved Swabian countryside knew that he was destined to change the course of history! (P. 132)

The heroic leader must exhibit the creative power to transform tradition, that is, to seek in the strife of the present the possibility of transmitting one's heri tage to future generations. Art becomes the vehicle for joining these apparently incompatible elements of harmony and strife, conflict and resolution. The ar tist's ex-centricity must be revered in contrast to the complacency of bourgeois convention and the self-serving politics of the modem enlightenment. Sacrifice rather than comfort provides the key to motivate individuals to place their trust in a new political regime. But the question becomes whether the artist's way of begetting creativity from chaos, harmony from strife, and destiny from destruc tion can provide even the barest recipe for politics. Once having understood why Heidegger found National Socialism to be at tractive, we must still ask where these revelations leave us as scholars. Not Heideggerians" surprisingly, a rift emerges between the "right-wing who uphold his status as a thinker attuned to the voice of being and the "left-wing Heideg

gerians" who employ deconstractive tactics to expose incongruities within the Heideggerian text (Schurmann, p. 127). For those who still espouse Heideg gerian themes, it becomes increasingly evident that the question of politics lies at the forefront of any future appropriation of his philosophy. On the one hand, Zimmerman pinpoints the dissonance between Heidegger's grasp of the West- em crisis and the prospect of translating that insight into guidelines of political action. On the other hand, a new opportunity arises to take Heidegger's short fall as an occasion to re-examine the perennial problem of the relation between theory and praxis, philosophy and politics. Going forward, the greatest chal lenge is to recast Heidegger's thought through a dialogue which examines the possibility of politics in the contemporary world. 126 Interpretation

Within the past decade, there have been two major breakthroughs which have dramatically changed the face of Heidegger studies. The first involves the emergence of the political question and the revelations of Heidegger's involve ment in National Socialism. The second pertains to the discovery of Heideg facticity," ger's thought in the early 1920's; in his youthful "hermeneutics of he uncovers an ethos which includes motifs from primordial Christianity, e.g, love and community, otherwise absent in his stark concept of Dasein. In De- mythologizing Heidegger, John Caputo blends these two developments in a way which plays the compassionate spirit of Heidegger's early religious orientation against the callousness of his subsequent commitment to totalitarian politics.

Thus Caputo distinguishes the two major dislocations in Heidegger's thought from which a new topography of questioning can emerge. According to Caputo, Heidegger's turn to National Socialism parallels his commitment to specific volitional categories of strength, self-affirmation, and heroism, all of which stem from Hellenic thought. "His baffling silence about the Holocaust, the scandalous comparison of the gas chambers to modem agri 'factical' culture . .. these are all scandalously insensitive to real pain and

suffering" concrete human (p. 73). The exclusivity with which Heidegger up holds the Greco-German virtues amounts to dismissing the importance of an other set of categories of Christian origin, the categories of tenderness, charity, and love. Despite the religious orientation of Heidegger's early thought, "he

was deaf to the solicitousness about the flesh in the biblical narratives .. (p. 72).

The deconstruction of Heidegger's thought requires an alternative axis to unfold the key motifs of his ontology, including care, truth, and temporality. But an appropriation of Heidegger's thought cannot occur without undoing the "myth" Greco-Germanic of a privileged origin from which Western philosophy "homecoming" arises and the nostalgic search for it through a (Holderlin). In advancing this criticism, Caputo concurs with Karl Lowith, who rebuked his 'being' " teacher for his "self-stylization into a shepherd, thinker, and sayer of (Lowith, p. 68). Only by purging Heideggerian thought of this tendency does it become possible to cultivate another ethos whose roots spring from the Judaeo- Christian heritage. Ironically, the German people's Christian heritage does not seem to have been much of a deterrent in preventing the atrocities of National Socialism. As Caputo indicates, Heidegger abandoned his early theological ori entation in favor of Holderlin's mythic-poetic vision of the gods. To open

"piety" Heidegger's thought to the of other traditions, we must cultivate a plu ralistic forum in which to express various criticisms of his philosophy: the need to heed the voice of the disenfranchised (Levinas), the persecuted (Lyotard), "justice" and the dissident (Derrida). According to Caputo, a new must emerge "singular," which speaks to the suffering of the individual, to the radically in "truth" contrast to the generic of being's claim upon Dasein (p. 207). Heidegger, the Polity, and National Socialism 127

III.

Heidegger's most vehement critics converge in a single attempt to counter

"Heideggerians" the wholesale attempt by to whitewash their mentor's involve ment in National Socialism. In Heidegger, Philosophy, and Nazism, Rockmore exemplifies this critical stance, as does Sluga in Heidegger's Crisis. Both schol

ars proceed less as disciples steeped in Heidegger's texts and more as histo rians; their strategy is to uncover unusual facts about Heidegger the person and "guilt" then weave them together in an ultimate detective story assessing his "innocence." and As Rockmore states, the time has come to combat the "offi

story" cial that Heidegger briefly flirted with National Socialism in 1933 only to reject it shortly thereafter upon resigning from the post of rector in 1934, and that, despite whatever personal shortcomings Heidegger may have exhibited as a man, these have no bearing on our assessment of his thought. "What I call the

'official' view is propagated not only by Heidegger but by some of his closest students. It is the view that, roughly speaking, there is no, or no important, link Socialism" between Heidegger's philosophical position and National (p. 74). Rockmore's overarching thesis is that Heidegger's thought is "intrinsically

political" (p. 54). Rockmore thereby closes the loophole by which Heidegger's defenders seek an escape from confronting his Nazism, namely, maintaining the purity of his thought over against its contamination by his behavior from 1933 Interview" to his "Spiegel in 1966. Rockmore, however, construes the term "political" in a narrower sense to mean the implementation of a kind of ideol ogy aligned with Heidegger's thought, rather than a reflection upon the princi ples of the polity. This distinction becomes important, for Rockmore maintains "hero," "resoluteness," that the key motifs of Heidegger's philosophy (e.g., the "conscience," "destiny") are adaptable to Nazism and only Nazism. Thus Rock more makes a stronger claim than most in suggesting that Heidegger's "turn to

philosophy" Nazism was based in his (p. 54). This is a different position than maintaining that Heidegger outlines the ontological presuppositions of the polis and hence his thought can be interpreted as implicating various political stances.

Because Rockmore couches the Heideggerian problem of this polis in this way, he can then establish the complex synergies which supposedly hold be tween fundamental ontology and National Socialism. Thus Rockmore makes the relevant associations between Heidegger's emphasis on the elitism of au thentic philosophy and his leadership as rector of the German university, the self's exercise of resolve and his political decision of 1933, being's transmis sion of its destiny to a chosen intellectual and the German people's emergence as a vanguard of world history. Yet even given the plausibility of these connec tions, the most compelling question which Rockmore poses is whether some element in Heidegger's philosophy prohibited him from recognizing the atroci ties perpetuated under the banner of National Socialism. 128 Interpretation

According to Rockmore, Heidegger sanctified the role of silence as an ingre dient of authentic existence to the point that when the time came he had a built-

in excuse for not speaking out against the forces of totalitarianism. But it may be more accurate to suggest that Heidegger acknowledged political develop ments only on a macro level proper to thought and not on the micro level of conflicting power interests. The question then becomes, Why does this disso nance occur? And one possible answer might be that Heidegger's concept of

dimension" destiny includes a "tragic in the purest Greek sense of strife and reconciliation, of illumination and blindness, of freedom and necessity. While the macrocosmic events of the Western crisis can be interpreted along these lines, the Holocaust may be of such a singular character that the depths of its darkness, unlike the nihilism Nietzsche envisioned, cannot be fit into the cate gories of Greek tragedy. Of course, there are different interpretations of the degree to which Heidegger was or was not antisemitic. But it is safe to say that he never saw the persecution of the Jews as a philosophical problem in its own right. In Heidegger's Silence, Berel Lang points to a double fault by which Heidegger ignored the plight of the Jews during Hitler's uprising, and then, in

question" retrospect, again neglected the "Jewish insofar as the Holocaust con stitutes the most abominable act of human history (pp. 5-8). In agreeing with Rockmore, Lang maintains that it is necessary to "see a connection in Heideg ger between the domains of the political and the philosophical, the public and

occasional" the private, the professional and the (p. 5). In this sense Lang's thesis is not altogether novel. What stands out is his clear way of focusing the question for which even Heidegger's detractors do not have a simple answer: How can we continue to grant Heidegger such premier stature in the history of philosophy when his indifference to the plight of humanity appears so obvious? The irony is that "Heidegger attempts to break the very notion of the limits of

question" thinking .. but in ignoring the "Jewish continues to "settle for

thought" limits to his (pp. 100-101). Yet Heidegger was not the only German intellectual to align with the dark forces of Nazism. What was it about not only Heidegger, but the intellectual life he shared with others, which made the politics of National Socialism attrac tive and which allowed intolerance toward the Jews to develop on such a broad scale? This is the question which Hans Sluga raises. In Heidegger's Crisis, Sluga reconstructs the historical environment which precipitated the rise of Na

tional Socialism. He emphasizes less the intricacies of Heidegger's thought and more the unique role which philosophy took in Germany as a catalyst of politi cal action. While Zimmerman and Rockmore show that philosophy does not develop in a political vacuum, Sluga illustrates how thought can transform the fragmented tradition of the German Volk and its uncertain future into a vision of a single destiny. Ironically, philosophy assumes such a leadership role as com pensation for a floundering economic and political life characterizing Germany Heidegger, the Polity, and National Socialism 129 in the 1930's. Given this condition of social instability, the link between a philosophy which proclaims a new destiny and the rhetoric of a totalitarian politics becomes more than accidental. Indeed, the resurgence of philosophy prefigures the brand of Nazi politics to which the Germans ultimately suc cumbed.

While Heidegger may have embraced Nazi ideology, he nevertheless upheld "site" a Greek view of politics as involving the determination of the polis as a (topos). According to Sluga, this sense of the polis formed one important ingre dient in an overall Gestalt of politics which took shape in National Socialism.

In a setting where institutions are on the decline, a voluntaristic sense of action, an opportunism forged through the will, inevitably prevails. The action must be "timely," but in order not to appear arbitrary it must project as a "common descent" among all of its proponents (p. 19). And because the determination of this ancestry involves both establishing a hierarchy among its members as well as excluding those who do not belong, a process of self-legitimation necessarily occurs. "Politics is thereby always a process of self-legitimation in which par justified" ticular priorities for action and particular social structures must be (p. 22).

In outlining this Gestalt of the political, Sluga takes an important step in addressing to what extent a thinker's thought arises through a dialogue with the "reduced" political crises of his or her time. Philosophy cannot then be to the political, but rather a philosopher may inculcate within his or her enterprise a questioning attitude which speaks to the possibility of politics (pp. 245-48). We need to make this distinction in order to show that a philosopher harbors in sights into the nature of the polis which may not be translated into any specific political beliefs he or she upholds. For example, Heidegger understood the

Greek polis as a site that combines the human concern for the good with an

occasion to act, which unfolds within the historical compass of being's mani festation. And while one may try to extract totalitarian elements from Heideg ger's vision, it may be possible to develop other inferences about the polity which conflict with the specific ideology of fascism. To preserve the question of politics proves to be one of the greatest strengths of Sluga's careful analysis.

IV.

There are many different philosophers to whom we might turn to provide insight into the nature of the polis Plato and Hegel, Mill and Kant, Arendt

and Marcuse. But despite Heidegger's Nazi ties, it is not obvious that he quali

"political" fies as one of these thinkers. Because fascism is so contrary to the

tenets of Western democracy, it is not especially provocative to claim that his components integral to polis: ontology uncovers some of the basic any e.g., freedom, community, and the possibility of law, for most critics construe these 130 Interpretation

circum motifs as formal concepts whose meaning can only be derived from the stances in which Heidegger first articulated them, his commitment to National Socialism.

Richard Wolin is one such critic we must address before entertaining the

politics." hyperbolic prospect of a "Heideggerian In The Politics of Being,

Wolin paints a grim picture of what happens when a philosopher breaks with the enlightenment tradition of political checks and balances and seeks to recre

"decision" ate the polis ex nihilo from a single (Entscheidung). The abruptness of Heidegger's political decision of 1933 has its analogue in his concept of resoluteness (Entschlossenheit). While this correlation is among the most ob vious, it is perhaps the most problematic. For Heidegger, resolve is a way of bringing oneself in concert with what the situation demands, in order that one question. Ac can develop those possibilities which speak to the dilemma in character to render cording to Wolin, however, resolve is of such a singular as (pp. ff.). The indeterminate any prescription of the good within that decision 35 indeterminacy of Heidegger's concept of authentic selfhood implies that one could exhibit the steadfastness of resolve and yet do terrible things, e.g., sup port the inhumane ideology of National Socialism. Thus Wolin emphasizes the lack of ethical content in Heidegger's concept of resolve.

Wolin pinpoints a problem which anyone sympathetic to the prospect of developing a Heideggerian politics must confront. Heidegger believed that on tological concepts must be developed out of the ontic stream of concrete, factic experience. But once having developed concepts on an ontological plane, how can their scope be readjusted to include the diverse variables of ontic concern

so that action becomes a locus of truth and the language of thought provides a

sanctuary of freedom? In Heidegger on Being and Acting, Reiner Schurmann addresses this problem by suggesting that praxis constitutes the domain for explicating the insights of Heidegger's thought; hence only praxis can illustrate the mode of governance which thought seeks in divesting itself of all rational

praxis" principles (arche) and models of presence. An "anarchic unfolds at the forefront of a new epochal relation between being and thought, in such a way that thinking must be informed by action and not simply the other way around. In many respects, Schurmann stands alone as a scholar who tackles a tenacious problem and offers steps toward a solution. Anarchic praxis "will be di

ametrically opposed to the Fiihrerprinzip; it would be a type of action irrecon

standard" cilably alien to all reduction to the uniform, action hostile to the (p. 14). Yet his solution operates on a plane of generality, it holds only if we accept the deconstructive paradox that governance arises from overturning pre-existing models of political rule.

We must recall that Schurmann published his book in French five years

Farias' before the publication of book; and while the former addresses the dan gers involved in totalitarianism, he makes neither an encounter with Heideg ger's Nazism nor an apologetic for it primary. As our discussion of the previous Heidegger, the Polity, and National Socialism - 131 books indicates, the ensuing decade would produce more caustic criticisms of Heidegger's Nazi allegiances than attempts at defending a political philosophy based on his thought. Because in academics every movement pushes to its extreme, it is not surprising that the pendulum would swing in the other direc tion and a defense of Heidegger would emerge. In Heidegger, Philosophy, and Nazism Julian Young counters the criticisms of the scholars mentioned above, as well as those of a wide spectrum of European thinkers from Levinas to Lyotard, Lacoue-Labarthe to Derrida. "analytic" Young proceeds like an philosopher to provide a point by point refutation of Heidegger's opponents. Against Rockmore and Wolin, Young claims that Heidegger's turn to National Socialism was far from a sudden and momentous decision; instead, Heidegger adopted a reactionary form of politics which had been percolating in Germany for almost two decades (p. 50). Against Hugo Ott, Farias, Rockmore, and Wolin, Young maintains that Heidegger was not antisemitic but rather exhibited concern toward many of his Jewish students (pp. 38-41). Moreover, Heidegger was skeptical of any attempt to apply bio "blood-line" "superior" logical categories such as to designate a people as or "inferior" (p. 41). In a way which is couched more in the language of logic than phenomenol ogy, Young claims that Heidegger's critics commit a fallacy in inferring a con nection between his thought and Nazism. The fallacy works itself out on two fronts as the claim that either Heidegger's philosophy harbors concepts which implicate" "positively National Socialism or his thought "negatively implicates

rejection" Nazism by failing to provide grounds for its (p. 79). On the first front, Young appeals to Heidegger's concept of authentic selfhood as promoting a sense of responsibility which is contrary to the demand toward conformity epitomized in totalitarianism. On the second front, Young argues that Heideg ger's concept of solicitude promotes a concern for the other, for his or her own

integrity, in a way which condemns the exploitation of people under a fascist regime. Young concludes that Being and Time harbors an ethic of respect for " 'decisionist' critics" persons in a way missed by Heidegger's (p. 104). Young makes a case against Heidegger's critics which, if it does not answer all of their objections, at least exposes some of their one-sidedness. Along with Young, Fred Dallmayr crystallizes a perspective that there is "another Heideg ger"beyond the Nazi ideologue. According to Dallmayr, Heidegger's example of injustice provides an ironic way of re-examining his texts to discover in sights into the nature of justice. By drawing upon Heidegger's eclectic interests in Anaximander and Schelling, Dallmayr suggests that justice can be under

"juncture" stood anew as a (Fuge) or measure which disposes us "to let others

care" be and to attend to them with considerate (p. 125). When joined with be" Young's emphasis on solicitude, Dallmayr's appeal to "letting holds great promise as a key for developing our political obligations toward others. But in either case a further exploration of the parameters of human freedom may be 132 Interpretation required in order to rectify the omission which Lang identifies, namely, that "tolerance" Heideggerian Gelassenheit lacks moral emphasis on (pp. 48-49). As much as Heidegger's texts can be directed against him, they can also yield nuances to enhance our reflections on the polis. Yet the fact that Heideg ger's thought can take this novel turn may not be sufficient evidence in its own "vindicate" right to him either for his Nazi allegiance or subsequent silence

about it. A still more unorthodox approach must be taken which can transpose Heideggerian motifs within a political context presumably alien to them, e.g., Western democracy, in order to articulate the democratic precepts we uphold. Such an approach harbors a concession which most of Heidegger's critics have refrained from making, namely, that democracy includes its own presupposi tions which, if fully articulated, may exhibit shortcomings in our system of government as we know it. Of all the scholars who appropriate Heidegger's

insights into politics in a positive way, Leslie Paul Thiele follows this lead. In Timely Meditations, Thiele raises the question which would reorient phi losophy within a practical context, although in a way which can speak to the assumptions of contemporary democracy. If our democratic system is naive about its assumptions, then an ontology must be able to cast light on the opera tional concepts implemented in our democratic practices. Thus, as Thiele indi be." cates, Heidegger develops an original understanding of freedom as "letting freedom" Correlatively, this "disclosive may evoke other facets of the liberties we assume, including resetting the parameters of free speech which we accept "right" as a constitutional (pp. 81-83). As Thiele emphasizes, the key to devel oping a democracy lies in safeguarding maximum participation among its mem bers. In this way a community develops. What Heidegger recognizes, however, is that the power which permits political participation, namely, language, simul taneously allows for the cultivation of individuality with a communal setting, that is, the self's unique way of dwelling with others. Language is not simply an instrument of verbal expression, but calls each of us to submit to it as a place of dwelling. In the proximity of this place we receive the guidance to act as members of a community and thereby engage in dialogue over the most "word" equitable mode of governing. As Arendt suggests, the first inserts us into the space of action in a way which gathers together each of us (as speakers) within the nexus of community (The Human Condition, p. 198). By tracing the synergy between logos and community, language and dwell

politics." ing, Thiele develops a "postmodern Yet this perspective remains

thinkers' rather abstract unless it can develop a critical edge to match liberal criticism of Heidegger's political views. Thiele locates this critical fulcrum in the way that language exhibits the disclosive power of truth, which for Heideg ger is synonymous with freedom. In other words, there is a more primordial connection between freedom and speech than appears in how the adjective

"free" "speech" qualifies the activity of in a democratic sense. Free speech is "right" not a by which one individual asserts his or her self-interest over against Heidegger, the Polity, and National Socialism 133

"openness" another person, but rather is the through which contrary voices can participate in serving the good of the community as a whole. "The justly hal lowed right to free speech might be grounded not only in the speaker's preroga tive to utter opinions and beliefs, but also on the listener's duty to remain open to, even solicitous of, the ontological difference these opinions and beliefs may harbor" be" (p. 128). While freedom as "letting can admit discord among its participants, it cannot allow speech to become a self-indulgent expression of

will which is rooted in concealment rather than unconcealment. Through his clever extrapolations, Thiele shows how democracy can be predicated upon the spirit of dwelling in Heidegger's sense. "Democracy is a journey toward freedom that remains ever under way. ... Disclosive freedom

challenge" beckons to the democratic (p. 167). Thiele's attempt to link Heideg ger's thought with democracy as Charles Sherover does with the help of a Kantian framework merits serious consideration (Sherover, pp. 5-12, 60-63). Yet, in recalling Sluga's criticisms, there is a subtle enigma which remains unclarified about the interface between philosophy and politics. While Heideg ger construes philosophy as the vanguard of politics, the situation is almost the reverse in a democratic setting: the polis sanctions the philosophical enterprise

as an enterprise of free exchange. Is there a motif in Heidegger's thought which could provide the linchpin for such a reversal, and thereby suggest that his "implicate" philosophy may the opposite political stance which his own fascist ideology condemns? In his 1930 lectures on human freedom, Heidegger argues that his exchange with previous philosophers must take the form of Auseinandersetzung (Vom

apart" Wesen, p. 292). Literally, Auseinandersetzung means to "set or "place in

opposition." According to Heidegger, philosophical exchange thrives on such controversy to the extent that the invitation of conflict reveals what is at stake in freedom of speech: namely, inviting a contrary response from the other. The welcoming of contrariness is not arbitrary, but like philosophical dialogue serves a greater master, the process of unconcealment itself. As Heidegger states in the Basic Problems of Phenomenology, philosophical inquiry is a freedom" "work of human (p. 16). But freedom takes shapes within a forum of exchange which safeguards the voice of the other. While philosophical inquiry depends upon Auseinandersetzung, the voice of the other can resound only because there is a forum reserved for it within the polis. Thus Heidegger's philosophy comes in conflict with itself at the point where its commitment to free speech yields to an ideology supporting censorship. (For a discussion of how prominent censorship was in Nazi Germany and its connection with the persecution of the Jews, see Sluga, pp. 86-100.) Since by its nature the philosophical enterprise is iconoclastic, controversial, and even subversive, it thrives within a polis where freedom of speech assumes

the greatest importance. Although in his rectoral address Heidegger discounts

freedom" "academic as weak spirited, philosophy can flourish only when it is 134 Interpretation reawakened to the challenge of freedom. Ironically, philosophy responds to this challenge not by accepting the elitism of its task, but, on the contrary, by re fac- locating itself within the polis and the tradition as a whole, in which the ticity of each citizen is rooted. As Heidegger's words so eloquently suggest, philosophy can then flourish through the "tradition [which] is a delivering into been" the freedom of discussion (die Freiheit des Gesprdches) with what has (What Is Philosophy?, pp. 33, 35). In this spirit, a Heideggerian politics would then become possible at the time

"multivocality" when such freedom could be translated into a which facilitates dialogue among diverse traditions. Perhaps this time will arrive sooner than we think.

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Arendt, Hannah. The Human Condition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1958. The Origins of Totalitarianism. New York: World Publishing, 1962. Truth,' Bailiff, John. "Truth and Power: Martin Heidegger, 'The Essence of and the Self-

University." Assertion of the German Man and World 29 (1987): 327-34. Blitz, Mark. Heidegger's Being and Time and the Possibility of Political Philosophy. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1981. Bourdieu, Pierre. The Political Ontology ofMartin Heidegger. Trans. Peter Collier. Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University Press, 1991. Political." Brainard, Marcus (ed.). "Heidegger and the Graduate Faculty Philosophy Journal 14, no. 2, 15, no. 1 (1991): 1-611. Dallmayr, Fred. The Other Heidegger. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1993. Political." David, Pascal. "A Philosophical Confrontation with the Heidegger Studies 1 1 (1995): 191-204. de Beistegui, Miguel. Heidegger and the Political Dystopias. London: Routledge, 1998. Farias, Victor. Heidegger and Nazism. Trans. Joseph Margolis and Tom Rockmore. Phil adelphia: Temple University Press, 1989. Heidegger." Fritsche, Johannes. "On Brinks and Bridges in Graduate Faculty Philosophy Journal 18, no. 1 (1995): 111-86. Heidegger, Martin. Die Grundprobleme de Phanomenologie, GA 24. Frankfurt am Main: Vittorio Klostermann, 1975. Vom Wesen der menschlichen Freiheit, GA 31. 1982. What Is Philosophy? Trans. Jean T. Wilde and William Kluback. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1958. Kettering, Emil, and Gunther Neske. Martin Heidegger and National Socialism. Trans. Lisa Harries. New York: Paragon Press, 1990. Silence." Kovacs, George. "On Heidegger's Heidegger Studies 5 (1989): 138-48. Lowith, Karl. Martin Heidegger and European Nihilism. Ed. Richard Wolin. Trans. Gary Steiner. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1995. " Lyotard, Jean-Francois. Heidegger and the "jews. Trans. Andre Michel. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press., 1990. Heidegger, the Polity, and National Socialism 135

Milchman, Alan, and Alan Rosenberg, eds. Heidegger and the Holocaust. Atlantic High lands, NJ: Humanities Press International, 1996. Ambiguity." "Resoluteness and Philosophical Forum 25, no. 1 (1993): 72-97. Olson, Alan M., ed. Heidegger and Jaspers. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1990.

Origins." Ott, Hugo. "Heidegger's Catholic American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 69, no. 2 (1995): 137-53. Martin Heidegger: A Political Life. Trans. A. Blunden. London: Fontana, 1994. Petzet, Heinrich Wiegand. Encounters and Dialogues with Martin Heidegger. Intro, by Parvis Emad. Trans. Parvis Emad and Kenneth Maly. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992.

Politics." Richardson, William J. "Heidegger's Truth and In A. Dallery, C. Scott, and H. Roberts, eds. Ethics and Danger. Albany: SUNY Press, 1992). Pp. 11-24. Safranski, Riidiger. Martin Heidegger Between Good and Evil. Trans. Ewald Osers. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998. Speech." Schalow, Frank, "Heidegger on Free Philosophical Writings, 1, no. 4 (1997): 27-38.

Socialism." "A Question Concerning Heidegger's Involvement in National Journal of the British Society for Phenomenology, 24, no. 2 (1993): 121-39. "Revisiting Anarchy: Toward a Critical Appropriation of Schumann's Thought." Philosophy Today 41, no. 4 (1997): 554-62. Schurmann, Reiner. Heidegger on Being and Acting: From Principles to Anarchy. Trans. Christine-Marie Gros. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987. Scott, Charles. On the Advantages and Disadvantages of Ethics and Politics. Bloom ington: Indiana University Press, 1996. Nazi." Sheehan, Thomas. "A Normal The New York Review of Books. January 14, 1993, pp. 30-35.

Sherover, Charles E. Time, Freedom, and the Common Good. Albany: SUNY Press, 1989. Van Buren, John. The Young Heidegger: Rumor of the Hidden King. Bloomington: Indi ana University Press, 1994. Wolin, Richard. The Politics of Being. New York: Columbia University Press, 1990. Zimmerman, Michael E. "The Thorn in Heidegger's Side: The Question of National Socialism." Philosophical Forum 20, no. 4 (1989): 340-55.

Whose Pluralism?

Bruce W. Ballard Stephens College

Francis Canavan, The Pluralist Game: Pluralism, Liberalism and the Moral Conscience (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 1995), xi + 192 pp., $22.95.

Michael Sandel, Democracy's Discontent: America in Search of a Public Philosophy (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996), xi + 417 pp., $24.95. Michael Walzer, On Toleration (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997), xii + 126 pp., $16.50.

Typical liberal versions of pluralism pretend to a fairness, inclusiveness and neutrality which they do not, indeed could not, possess. Like other pluralisms, liberal versions must and do include and exclude according to criteria which reflect their own philosophical commitments, and historical development. This fact is perhaps clearest and most damaging to liberal pluralist claims when we consider the particular forms of life and thought liberalism excludes. Thus the

question is not whether a particular intellectual tradition is exclusive, but what it excludes, why it excludes, and whether it is transparent to itself about its exclusivity. While some liberals have become more conscious of the partic ularities and limits of their tradition (cf. Rawls's Political Liberalism), others continue simply to assert liberalism as an overarching social framework with little to no supporting justification. On the other hand, liberals have rightly called for their communitarian chal lengers to offer not only critique but alternative scenarios. Three recent works do both. Within their larger pictures of the good society, each author also sketches his own alternative version of pluralism. Francis Canavan, Emeritus Professor of Political Science at Fordham University, offers a penetrating and insightful analysis of the last few decades of liberal pluralism in the United States in his collection of essays written between 1963 and 1993, The Pluralist Game. He successfully exhibits important contradictions of American liberal pluralism in theory and practice while sketching an alternative vision of politics and morality drawn primarily from classical and religious communitarian sources.

Harvard political scientist Michael Sandel refines and applies his in-depth

philosophical critique of liberalism and offers a fullblown republican alternative in his long-awaited second book, Democracy's Discontent: America in Search

interpretation, Fall 1998, Vol. 26, No. 1 138 Interpretation

of a Public Philosophy. His critique of liberalism as a public philosophy, in cluding an updated discussion of Rawls in Political Liberalism, surely ranks among the very best contemporary treatments. His identification and recovery of a republican strand in American history and politics recasts the question of pluralism for public discussion. Social theorist Michael Walzer, of the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton, attempts to put communitarian emphases to work in support of a larger left liberalism in his On Toleration. Since Walzer still supports an aug mented version of liberalism, aspects of his version of pluralism are vulnerable to the critiques Sandel and Canavan provide.

All three volumes survey a wide range of issues including, but not limited to, pluralism and toleration, the renewal of secondary or mediating institutions, the effects of recent Supreme Court decisions on freedom of speech and reli gion, and the relations between economy and polity. Naturally, it would be impossible to cover these topics in this short space, so I thematize the discus

authors' sion by focussing on two main dimensions: challenges to liberalism and its pluralism, and how and why each approach ends up defining and limit ing pluralism as it does. As might be expected, the background philosophizing which leads each author to his conclusions about the limits of pluralism varies in cogency and completeness. In Canavan's account, the purported neutrality and inclusiveness of the lib eral pluralist state in matters of religion and morality is bogus, indeed impossi ble. Law and policy unavoidably express some view about what is good for society. Hence, typical liberalist moves to separate religion from morality and morality from politics are misleading. The categories overlap. By seeking the lowest common denominator agreeable to the many and making law and policy accordingly, the state in fact establishes secular individualism as ultimate, ex cluding the outlook of citizens who strongly identify themselves in terms of religious commitments. Canavan cites a number of Supreme Court decisions over the last thirty years which support this contention. As Canavan clearly perceives, by privileging the autonomous individual, the state "necessarily sets norms for a whole society, creates an environment in which everyone has to institutions" live, and exerts a powerful influence on social (p. 76). Statecraft is soulcraft whether it appreciates or wills this result or not.

Increased secularization has also subverted a consensus which had circum scribed earlier American pluralism. The lost unity of moral perspective in the West reflects a lost unity of biblical religion which Jews and Christians had shared. Earlier American pluralism, however conflictual, had at least been more intelligible because the majority held a common biblically based faith and mo rality. Those who earlier championed pluralism did so against this biblically informed background, whether or not they were consciously aware of its func tion. In Canavan's account, the dissolution of this unity "left millions of other Whose Pluralism? -139

land" Americans with the feeling that they are now strangers in their own (pp. 65-66).

Canavan sees a drift toward secular monism over the last three decades in particular. As the secular state increasingly took over various social-welfare functions, it displaced private institutions. By increased federal regulation and the appropriation of taxes for public education, private religious schools, hospi tals and social services were injured. These institutions, at their best, had helped to flesh out religious community life. So liberal pluralism again turns out not to be neutral, but hostile toward conditions which make for thriving community. A main means by which liberal pluralism attempts neutrality is by taking controversial areas out of the political realm and leaving them to individual choice. But again, as Canavan notes, what shall be left to private choice and what to public judgment is itself a political decision. It can only be made on the basis of an antecedent moral judgment, but the lack of moral agreement in creasingly typical of American pluralism makes such judgments necessarily un acceptable to many. Apparently neutral and democratic values such as liberty and equality also fail to resolve pluralist conflict, yet they have come to define the range of controversy between contemporary liberals and conservatives. Understood in individualist terms, such values quickly reduce to discussions of rights. This reduction is itself incessantly reiterated in the media and wider popular culture. Again for the lack of a commonly acceptable moral basis for resolving either the tension between liberty and equality or for specifying their content, argu ments over rights remain equally unresolvable. "celebrate" We are nevertheless faced with ever-increasing calls to pluralism "diversity." and In Canavan's reading, pluralism as a norm is being urged be cause it is a condition which supports the ultimate value of liberalism, individ ual liberty. Cultural liberalism is so determined by this pursuit that it can no longer judge even the most outrageous wrongs. The author very perceptively identifies the ideal economic counterpart of liberalism as capitalism and the free market, but without developing the point at any length. He does note that argu ments in favor of abortion which treat a mother's womb as private property "tenant" from which the unborn may be evicted at will follow the logic of capitalist ownership. Certainly American liberal pluralism is hardly neutral as between capitalism and any other model of economy. Given his rejection of liberalism, Canavan would presumably reject capitalism as well. With Sandel and Walzer, he does commend cooperatives in passing. A sustained analysis of the affinity between liberalism and capitalism would go a long way toward completing Canavan's treatment. The communitarian vision of pluralism he supports also needs fur

ther development of an appropriate range of economic arrangements congruent

with that vision. Yet of the three volumes, Sandel's alone offers a sustained 140 Interpretation

development of the relationship between economy and community flourishing. But Canavan's identification of the affinity between liberalism and capitalism by itself nicely divides so-called economic conservatism (economic libertarian ism) from the socially moral conservatism congruent with the biblical religion Canavan supports.

Taken to its logical terminus, things look even more desperate for pluralist neutrality. For the liberal pluralist claiming full and neutral inclusiveness has to admit, on pain of contradiction, that the views of individuals or groups which reject the celebration of pluralism are equally as valuable as their contradicto ries. Thus the pluralist must also celebrate not celebrating pluralism. One can not but be reminded here of other forms of self-defeating relativism and scepticism, so Canavan is again on target when he identifies actual contempo rary plurality as a dilemma rather than a cause celebre. That current liberal pluralism is in fact quite intolerant of strongly committed positions (particularly "divisive" religious) as again underlines its own very inconsistent nonneutrality. Given his very critical assessment of the recent drift of affairs, we might have expected a note of despair in Canavan's conclusion, but Canavan con cludes by urging orthodox Catholics (Canavan is Catholic), with conservative Protestants and devout Jews, to join in the struggle, both intellectually and legislatively, to help stem the tide toward secular monism by reasserting a com mon biblically based morality and creating greater social space for private reli gious institutional life.

"secondary" Of the three authors, Canavan accords or mediating commu nities the greatest primacy. Groups with spiritual, cultural, and intellectual tradi tions to pass on are the essential and most defining community, not the state. If anything, the state should reduce its direct role in education, social services, etc., to make room for such groups to flourish. Genuine pluralism for Canavan is not primarily protection of the individual qua individual from group or state, but a situation in which individuals as members of various communities can pursue essential human goods. Here again it is Michael Sandel who provides

the more detailed philosophical explanation of the nature of the relation be tween self-identity and community which would help motivate Canavan's pic ture.

On the other hand, those outside the wider biblical tradition Canavan com mends will likely reject his pluralism. But as Canavan argues, public policy always reflects some moral vision, so his critics have to argue why their moral vision ought to take precedence over the biblical tradition of morality so central to American cultural formation. The fact that Canavan's volume is a set of

papers rather than a systematic treatment of a problem poses a different kind of limitation. His treatment needs supplementation by more in-depth argument and analysis of the sort Sandel often provides.

In Sandel's account, two main forms of contemporary social anguish demon strate the failure of the liberal project in America: fear that the moral fabric of Whose Pluralism? 141 family, community, and national life is unraveling and fear about lost individual and collective control over life-goveming forces. Liberal ideals of neutrality with regard to moral and religious views of citizens, rights apart from the good, and a notion of freedom as the capacity of the individual self to choose its own ends all block the way, both conceptually and practically, to a solution to these problems.

Through a detailed historical account of American public life from the foun ders to the contemporary scene, Sandel recovers an alternative and republican way of genuine self-government from which liberalism can be seen as a de cline. As Sandel notes, the neutral ideal of liberalism is not timelessly natural. Ancient politics had aspired to cultivate virtue in its citizens, and this goal has also been a longstanding goal of American public policy, as Sandel documents through numerous primary sources. Failure by the neutral liberal state to either identify or cultivate the virtues necessary for self-government helps account for the current crisis over lost control.

In the liberal conception, the freedom of citizens is seen primarily as nega tive. They need protection from the state and each other in order to pursue their private ends. Again, for Sandel and the republican tradition, this asocial render ing of human good is misleading. People are born for citizenship. They natu rally desire to govern their own common affairs. They find there a fulfillment and identification with a larger whole and good than is available to isolated individuals. When they are deprived of this sort of active community participa tion, even their negative freedom is at the mercy of whatever elites do govern. As identification and participation in the whole decline and citizens become

more alien to each other, motivation for the mutual respect liberalism calls for

is also undermined.

As in Liberalism and the Limits of Justice, Sandel emphasizes the mislead ing and alienating idea of the self offered by contemporary liberal theory. Ac cording to that theory, the self is above all else a pure individual whose highest value resides in its capacity to choose its own ends. Choice of one's ends

others' becomes a kind of end in itself. Consequently, we no longer respect views based on their content, but simply for the fact that sovereign individuals have chosen them. As Sandel notes, popular psychology manuals make this explicit by promoting a virtual religion of the self in which there is no incentive or use in deliberating with others about what is true or good. But the self conceived as unencumbered by any prior moral definition is an abstraction which is falsified by everyday moral experience. Kantian versions of liberalism, for instance, cannot do justice to the phenomena of family obliga tions, religious duties, or even citizen obligation, since these all require a thick description of the self. The minimalist political liberalism Rawls now argues explicitly calls upon citizens to bracket thick moral and religious selves for the purposes of public deliberation and decision-making. Sandel raises the crucial

question of why we should suspend such identity-making aspects of our selves 142 Interpretation

when it comes to questions of justice, rightly observing that a practical interest in social cooperation and mutual respect does not automatically defeat any other moral interest. He raises the same point regarding toleration. Sandel notes that "We cannot determine whether toleration is justified in any given case without passing

question" moral judgment on the practice in (p. 20). Suspending moral judg ment in the name of toleration does not effect a neutral pluralism. Using the example of abortion, Sandel observes that if the Catholics were correct about

"bracketed" human life beginning at conception and their view to accept legal abortion, they would in effect be countenancing murder. In principle, prochoice "bracket" advocates are also to their views for public purposes, but legal abor tion in effect simply grants their position. Sandel cites a provocative and telling parallel argument against moral bracketing from Lincoln against Douglas on the issue of slavery. In both cases, Sandel gets to the philosophical heart of the matter by emphasizing that whether or not we should bracket depends on which of competing views is true. The argument for liberalism from relativism is no help either. As Sandel correctly argues, to say that we should all respect each other because the truth is

relative" relative is self-defeating. If "all truth is is absolutely true, then there is at least one truth which is not relative, a contradiction. But even if we substi

others' tuted some other version of the relativist claim, respect for views need not follow. We might just as well say that all views are equally worthy of disrespect since none is true. Or we could relativize the value of respect, seeing it as one nonprivileged attitude among other possibilities. How and why would Sandel limit pluralism differently than liberalism? His civic and republican ideal of self-fulfillment in communal deliberation and de cision about the social good certainly sets a different parameter for the discus sion of pluralism. His alternative version of the self, which is constituted thickly and unabashedly by family relations, community, moral, and religious commitments leads him to reject forms of pluralism primarily based upon, and promoting, virtueless abstract individualism. The devastation divorce and di vorce law have wreaked upon our society supports Sandel's recovery of a role- and virtue-based way of understanding and dealing with family law which "choice" brings to moral accountability and aims at promoting the family as a good for its members and the republic.

By raising the question of what form of economy would best serve republi can aims of self-government and the virtues which support it, Sandel shows a willingness to curb the pseudopluralism of hegemonic business interests. His seriousness about ethical rationality and truth allows him to advocate morally transparent public policy deliberation and decision. So Sandel ends up advocat

pluralism," ing what he terms a "mutual appreciation which would affirm peo ple and communities for the distinctive goods they express, not their simple capacity to choose something or other. Whose Pluralism? 143

Altogether, Sandel's program and its associated pluralism make for a tall order. Sandel himself raises and responds to a number of relevant objections in his final chapter. But further questions are possible. In the course of his closing "narrow" arguments Sandel rejects the moralism of the fundamentalist without further qualification. Yet he had acknowledged and highlighted the importance of ethical truth when it came to the rationality of bracketing. Indeed, Sandel rejects the content-neutrality position of recent Supreme Court decisions on free expression. To the liberal objection that if an ordinance could ban the Nazis from marching in Skokie, it could as easily have banned King and his fol lowers, Sandel replies, "The answer may be simpler than liberal political theory permits: the Nazis promote genocide and hate, while Martin Luther King sought civil rights for blacks. The difference consists in the content of the

cause" speech, in the nature of the (p. 90). Presumably, Sandel is arguing that public deliberation can and should take account of moral content before marching permits are handed out. There would be no foregone conclusion about the outcome of deliberation one way or the other. Yet the decisions of public deliberation can be philosophically shallow, partisan in a way which ignores questions of truth and rationality, or even malicious.

To return to Sandel's abortion example, why should the prolife advocate with a compelling argument recognize a public decision tantamount to allowing murder? And why should the religious community which realizes the very cor porate goods Sandel enumerates, and which is convinced of the truth of its

"common" beliefs and practices, care to subordinate itself to public deliberation with those who reject it? What does such a community lack which needs sup plementing by national republican community other than noninterference? In a "narrowness" word, Sandel needs more elaboration and defense of criteria for

"fundamentalism" in morality and in religion in order to save some of his own moral positions and certain examples which illustrate them.

It could also be added here that, in general, the substantive conclusions Sandel offers about civil rights for blacks and protection against harassment of the Jews in Skokie do seem to proceed from a biblically informed moral sensi bility. Arguably, the same could be said about his substantive positions on fam ily law. That is, Sandel may depend more on an older American consensus of biblical morality than his open-ended republican deliberation ideal explicitly recognizes. The hope of reaching the sort of substantive moral agreement across a range of public policy issues that Sandel calls for may depend upon it, as Canavan suggests.

Michael Walzer agrees that liberal pluralism as it stands does need to be resituated to address the increasing fragmentation of both personal and group life in the United States. With Sandel, Walzer notes the insufficiency of appeals to rights and abstractly fair procedures alone to address contemporary problems of toleration and coexistence. These problems vary depending upon the histori- 144 Interpretation

cal and political situation of various societies, so Walzer develops a suggestive and useful typology of five tolerance regimes abstracting from a variety of historical examples. This analysis highlights the social dynamics which inevita bly shape the possibilities and problems of toleration in particular societies. With Sandel, Walzer acknowledges that the kind of hyperindividualism cele brated in postmodern conceptions of the self is both alienating and corrosive of citizenship. With both Sandel and Canavan, Walzer sees a part of the solution here in the revival of various secondary associations. Yet by keeping to the larger liberal pluralist picture, together with its strong individualism, Walzer leaves intact the roots of alienation and fragmentation which have led to the current crisis. Walzer's claim that Americans neither have nor need anything in common but certain political principles and toleration is more like a restatement of the problem than a key to its resolution. To his credit, Walzer acknowledges that liberalism is a substantive and par ticular political culture of its own, with early roots in Protestant and English history. Yet his recognition that liberalism is one tradition among others does not lead Walzer to offer a philosophical defense of it. In the face of contempo rary critiques like those of Sandel, Canavan, Maclntyre, and others, this is an omission which seriously weakens many of Walzer's proposals for American pluralism. It lends particular judgments the same ad hoc quality which be leaguered Just and Unjust Wars. While Walzer rejects attempts by groups with moral agendas to "control everyone's behavior in the name of a supposedly common (Judeo-Christian,

values' say) tradition, of 'family or of their own certainties about what is right

wrong" and (p. 70), Walzer largely responds by simply asserting his own secu lar liberal dogmatism. Religious parties, for example, ought to be barred from running in elections, according to Walzer. To the fears of orthodox parents that state-mandated versions of tolerance education may make their children "toler

error," ant of religious Walzer responds that, "one hopes that they are justified

and that the public schools ... will have exactly the effects that orthodox fear" parents (p. 77). Naturally, Walzer is willing for these orthodox parents to send their children to private schools (if they can afford it), but is unwilling to relieve them of taxation for state education. He doubts that liberal politics

would be sustained were all children to go into private sectarian schools, so he opposes a voucher system.

Where then, are we to uncover the resources necessary for a revived political and social life of the sort Walzer wants, of a pluralism which isn't simply fragmentation? We cannot harbor republican hopes, since we are too multi farious a population. In his typology of toleration regimes, Walzer identifies the United States as an immigrant society rather than a nation-state with republican foundations like France, so the unity which comes from that richer foundation for citizenship is unavailable to us. (It would be intriguing to see a published debate between Sandel and Walzer over this question.) Nor can we repair to Whose Pluralism? - 145 what remains of a biblically informed moral consensus, since that would be "intolerant."

Within the confines of the liberal position Walzer embraces, we do not and cannot seriously engage questions of truth and rationality in ethics. But after reading Sandel, we have less reason than ever to relinquish that good, and the alternatives for liberalism are either to lack transparency about its own particu lar value-structure or to assert it without philosophical defense. Altogether then, it is difficult to see how Walzer's slightly revised liberal pluralism could either overcome the problems Canavan and Sandel elaborate or provide genuine hope

for revived public life. i VERLAG J. B. METZLER

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erudition. ... By illustrating how Lockean and repub lican ideas came to be blended, Zuckert forcefully

republic.'' recounts the origins of the American

Richard Vernier, TheJournal ofAmerican History

Natural Rights

'hf-UitlKllS and the New Republicanism

Michael P. Zuckert

Here Michael Zuckert propos

es a new view of the political philosophy that lay behind the founding of the United States.

"This exemplary work of historical reconstruction dramati cally transforms our understand ing of the genealogy of early American political thought. No

one who deals with the eigh teenth-century Anglo-American political tradition will be able to avoid the unsettling challenge of Zuckert's original and painstak ingly documented reinterpreta tion, for this is one of those rare scholarly achievements, at once capacious and meticulous, that forces all of us back to the drawing boards." Thomas L. Pangle, William and Mary Quarterly Paper $18.95 ISBN 0-691-05970-5

Princeton University Press AT FINE BOOKSTORES OR CALL 800-777-4726 HTTP: //PUP.PRINCETON.EDU NATURE AND CULTURE A Social Research Conference November 5-7, 1998

What we eat; the ceremonies surrounding it; how food marks our sameness and differences; its mythic and symbolic importance; the joy of plenty; the fear of famine and deprivation all are occasions for reflections on the human condition. This conference brings together scholars and scientists as well as policy makers in a forum linking discourse about hunger, diet and food security with the history, culture and political economy of food in an effort to elicit new perspectives on the significant problems created by scarcity and abundance.

1 : Everyday Life: Food as a major 4: Food as Symbol or Sign: Food is component of life not only what we eat but figures as Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, Paul a symbol in most religions and as Rozin, Raymond Sokolov, Aristide a marker of identity and difference Zolberg (Moderator) Maurice Bloch, Wendy Doniger, Theodore Zeldin, Barbara 2: Case Histories: Examining the Kirshenblatt-Gimblett (Moderator) ways in which foods have emerged, migrated,and been assimilated is an 5: Food in Art/ Food as Art: Food important way of understanding our is both an object of art and a histories medium for artistic expression Betty Fussell, William McNeill, Sidney Leonard Barkan, Steven Heller, Marc Mintz, Robert Adams (Moderator) Shell, John Hollander (Moderator)

3: Key Note Addresses 6: Abundance and Scarcity: Sustainable Agriculture: Ismail Access to food is far from equal Serageldin Richard Goldman, Anne Murcott, Food and Culture: Margaret Visser Marion Nestle, Robert Herdt (Moderator)

7: The Future: Prospects for the global availability of food and ways to increase it Gordon Conway, David Pimental, Per Pinstrup- Andersen, Kenneth Prewitt (Moderator)

This conference is organized by Arien Mack, editor of Social Research.

All conference sessions will be held at The New School. For more information and reservations, please call (21 2) 229-2488 or e-mail [email protected] Further details coming to the World Wide Web soon! Keep checking for a link at http://www.newschool.edu/socres/food.

ISSN 0020-9635 Interpretation, Inc. Queens College Rushing N.Y. 11367-1597 U.S.A.

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